


The ones he left behind

by Eveliiina



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, But it's not sad all the time, Harley is a little shit, I promise, Multi, Peter tries to cope with feelings, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Slow Burn, everyone misses tony, rating mostly for swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-08 14:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19870822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eveliiina/pseuds/Eveliiina
Summary: Just as Peter Parker starts to feel like he is on his way to getting over witnessing the harrowing death of Tony Stark, someone he thought he'd never meet again enters his life unexpectedly. Harley is too closely associated with Tony, however, and Peter doesn't know how to cope with the surge of memories and emotions the other boy evokes in him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> What's that? Am I procrastinating writing literally every other fic I have in progress by starting a new one? Maybe. What about it?
> 
> In all seriousness, I have no idea where I'm going with this particular fic, but I think I wanted to write about Tony's death just to get over it myself.
> 
> This fic obviously has some spoilers for Endgame, but it isn't Far From Home compliant, so there aren't any major spoilers for FFH in this fic. I do call the snap 'the blip' in this fic and borrowed the idea of there being documentaries about Iron Man since his death, but other than that, this should be spoiler-free. (And seriously, if you still haven't seen FFH, you really should do that instead of reading this)
> 
> Also, English is not my native language so I'm sorry for all the mistakes I may have made while writing this.

Peter hadn’t thought about Tony for two hours. A personal record, which almost made him proud in a strange way. In the five months since his mentor-slash-father figure had decided to follow the steps of Jesus Christ and sacrifice himself for the betterment of humanity, Peter had found it extremely difficult to not have his brain filled with images of him and Tony working on upgrades for his suit, or of Tony dropping by his apartment and pretending to enjoy May’s cooking, or of Tony threatening to take his suit away again when he did something dumb. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried - it just so happens that while Peter was trying to end his mourning after the first few months since the funeral, the world hadn’t been quite as ready to let go of Iron Man yet. And when you are continuously assaulted by BuzzFeed articles about the Top 10 Times Iron Man Totally Saved Our Lives, and the documentaries that seemed to pop up on Netflix every other week, it wasn’t as easy to move on as he had hoped it would’ve been.

But two hours was progress, he told himself, as he stuffed his school books into his locker. Now, if only the world could hurry up and catch up to him, maybe he would stop waking up every night with tears streaming down his cheeks while shouting for Tony to please come back and not leave him. Maybe.

“Peter!”

Peter closed his locker and smiled when he saw Ned striding towards him. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

“Have you heard?” Ned asked, a conspiratory grin on his face.

Peter frowned. “Heard what?” 

Ned took ahold of his arm and started dragging him down the hallway. “There’s a new kid that’s starting here today! He’s coming to our class.”

“Okay, and?” Peter was still confused. Sure, Midtown High rarely got new students in the middle of the school year, but it wasn’t like it was unheard of. Especially since there was an overcrowding problem in a lot of schools after everyone who had blipped came back, and sometimes students had to be transferred to different schools to manage class sizes. God, that purple dick really did do a number on the world, huh?

“I heard he’s from Tennessee,” Ned said excitedly. “I’ve never met anyone from the South. I bet he wears a cowboy hat,” he said seriously, which made Peter snort.

“I highly doubt it, but I’ll take that bet.”

Ned was still going on about what the new student could be like, and while Peter did feel a tiny bit guilty for not sharing his best friend’s enthusiasm for a person they had never even met, he pushed that feeling down and tried his best to at least seem like he was interested in what Ned was saying. 

Once they reached their classroom, Peter immediately noticed the person at the back of the room, his face buried into his hands on the desk and his hair masked by the hood of his sweatshirt. He looked like he was sleeping. 

“Oh my god, is that-”

“Shh, Ned - he might hear you,” Peter quickly shushed him, his face already burning from the fact that he himself had stopped in his tracks to stare at the boy. Peter wasn’t sure if he was asleep, and he really didn’t want his - or Ned’s - first impressions to be rude. 

Peter dragged Ned to sit at the front of the class next to MJ just before Mr. Dell walked in. 

“Alright, class - I hope you all did your homework over the weekend because I do not want a repeat of last week, okay? This is a STEM school, kids - I expect you to do your work.”

The class murmured their confirmations and Mr. Dell nodded, seemingly satisfied by the class’s reaction.

“Oh, and before we begin; we have a new student joining us today,” Mr. Dell said and lifted an unamused eyebrow as his eyes fell onto the boy still sleeping at his desk. “In addition to students having the responsibility to do their work, they also have a responsibility to stay awake during class. I don’t know how they ran things back in Tennessee, but here we expect our students to have their eyes open while in class,” he dryly announced without a hint of humor in his voice. Most students snickered and turned to look at the new kid, who up until now had barely moved in his seat.

“Do I have to repeat myself, Mr. Keener?” Mr. Dell asked, raising his voice.

Peter furrowed his brows. Keener? Why did that sound so-

“I’m awake, I’m awake. No need to start yelling,” the boy finally lifted his head from his hands, his hood falling from his head and revealing a mop of messy, light brown hair under it. A smirk was plastered onto his face as he stood up from his seat, putting his hands in his pockets and sighing. 

No, Peter thought to himself as he zeroed in on the face of the boy. He couldn’t be-

“My name’s Harley. Harley Keener. I used to go to a school in Tennessee and now I don’t. I’d say it’s nice to meet you guys but my mom taught me not to lie, so,” he shrugged his shoulders. “The chairs here are much more comfortable than the ones we had back home so that’s nice, at least,” he finished and sat back down with his smirk still in place.

Mr. Dell looked like he was about to burst a vein, but instead of continuing to berate Harley, he moved onto his actual job of teaching science. Normally Peter would have been all ears and writing down notes, but at the moment, he seemed to be frozen in place, still staring at Harley with wide eyes. It was only a matter of time before Harley noticed him staring, and instead of looking surprised, he winked. At Peter. And Peter blushed, now suddenly able to move again and turned his head back to face the front of the class. 

Shit, he thought to himself and frowned. Having Harley here would definitely lessen his chances of being able to forget Tony.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: panic attack.

Peter had tried to focus on class, he really had. But knowing that Harley - the kid Tony would always talk about when the opportunity arose and the kid he had first met at the previously mentioned hero’s funeral - was now attending his school, was something of a shock.

It’s not that Peter disliked Harley. He didn’t really even know him. Sure, he had heard about him a great deal. A genius, super-smart kid who built his own weaponry when he was just twelve and was too sassy for his own good if you were to believe Tony’s words. Which, when you took into account the way he introduced himself to the class, didn’t appear to be that far off from the truth. 

And then, of course, there was the funeral. Peter hadn’t known who Harley was at first. There were a lot of people Peter hadn’t recognized immediately, but it hadn’t taken him long to give names to all the other Avengers and attendees. But Harley was a mystery. It wasn’t until he had nonchalantly asked Happy about the teenager that Peter realized who he was. After that, he had timidly introduced himself, but building new friendships at a funeral didn’t feel like the right thing to do, so after an awkward exchanging of names and a subtle flicker of recognition flashing through Harley’s eyes that made Peter wonder what Tony had told him about him, they hadn’t interacted for the rest of the day. Peter had figured he would never see Harley again since he didn’t live anywhere near New York and truthfully, he was pretty okay with that fact. But clearly, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Dude, that guy’s gonna be trouble. Did you hear what he said to the teacher?”

“Yeah, Ned, I was there,” Peter said, sounding a little more snippy than he had meant to. Thankfully, Ned hadn’t seemed to notice. The same couldn’t have been said of MJ, however. 

“You know something about him that we don’t?” she casually asked, never once lifting her gaze from the book she was reading while leaning into her locker.

“What?” Peter sputtered. “No, of course not. Never seen him in my life.”

Even Ned was now narrowing his eyes. “You did seem kinda freaked about him, Peter,” he said, peering suspiciously at his friend’s face. Peter flinched under his stare.

“Aha! You do know something!” Ned yelled while pointing an accusing finger towards Peter’s face. “Spill,” he demanded, making Peter sigh resignedly and glare at MJ, whose lips curled slightly upwards behind her book.

“Look, it’s nothing bad, okay? He just… He knew To- Mr. Stark,” Peter said, his voice cracking as he spoke the late hero’s name. 

Ned lifted his eyebrows, his mouth hanging slightly open. MJ closed her book.

“I guess he and, and Mr. Stark had a similar relationship as he had with me. Happy told me they’d met, like, five years before the blip, when, um, when Mr. Stark went missing after that terrorist attack in Malibu. He was at the, the funeral.”

“Shit, Peter, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed,” Ned said, looking guiltily at the floor.

“Yeah, me too. Sorry,” MJ said quietly.

“It’s okay, guys, really. I mean, you would’ve found out eventually. He recognized me in class, I think. It’s just really weird having him here. This has been the only place where I’m not constantly reminded of, of Mr. Stark. And now Harley’s here and I… I don’t know. I don’t know,” Peter repeated, slumping against the lockers. He wiped his hands against his jeans. Had they been this sweaty before?

Ned put a comforting hand on Peter’s shoulder while MJ shifted from one foot to another, clearly at a loss for what to do to help. Peter almost chuckled at the thought, but it suddenly felt like he was unable to speak. His throat felt dry and he could feel cold sweat forming on his back.

“Peter? Are you okay?” He could hear Ned’s voice beside him, but something was making it muffled. He rubbed his ears, but it felt like there was a barrier between them and the noises surrounding him. The only sound he could hear loudly was an erratic beat that after a few seconds - or maybe minutes - he determined was the sound of his own heart. He breathed heavily, and at some point without even realizing, he had ended up on the floor, his hands braced against the cold tiles. 

What the hell was happening to him?

There was a loud bang, like something had dropped onto the floor and then he felt hands. Hands on his face, on his arms, and there was something blocking his field of vision right in front of him.

“Parker?”

The voice was vaguely familiar, but Peter couldn’t place it. He felt like someone was squeezing his chest and he closed his eyes, shutting them tightly and trying to block everything out.

“Parker!”

The voice was louder and Peter tried to ignore it, the familiarity of it not comforting.

“Peter, please, open your eyes! We’re trying to help!”

Another voice. Ned’s voice. Peter opened his eyes. 

Ned was kneeling beside him on his right, MJ’s worried face behind him. A flock of random students had gathered around them, some looking scared, some amused. And right in front of Peter, Harley’s face was scrunched up in concern.

“Parker? You with us?” Harley asked, his hand positioned on Peter’s upper arm. Peter turned his face to look at the hand on his arm, frowning as the smooth skin slowly started transforming into a much rougher and calloused hand. The grip felt tighter and bigger, the veins on the hand and the arm attached to it suddenly more noticeable than before. 

“Did you hear me, Parker?”

Peter whipped his head around. Not Harley’s voice. Not Harley’s face. Not Harley’s hand.

Tony.

_TonyTonyTony_

He was looking at Tony. 

No. Nononono.

He had to get out. He had to get away. Tony was dead. He was dead and Peter had seen him die and there was a funeral and this _wasn't_ Tony, this was _Harley_ and-

Someone was crying. He could hear sobbing and wailing. Someone was hurting. His senses became alert. Someone was crying and in trouble and he was Spider-Man, he had to help-

“Peter, it’s okay, MJ went to get a teacher, please! Just, just calm down, it’s gonna be okay, please, Peter,” Ned’s whiny voice cut through his inner monologue.

Oh. 

Peter lifted a hand to his face. Wet, he noted as his fingers made contact with his cheeks. 

He was the one crying. 

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Peter, he’s having a panic attack or something and, and we don’t know what to do!”

“Peter? Peter, can you focus on my voice?”

A different voice again. A teacher.

“Try taking deep breaths, okay? Take deep breaths and try to think of something calming.”

Something calming. He could do that. Something calming…

May. May was calming. Peter focused every fiber of his being into conjuring an image of May into his head. May making dinner. May burning dinner. May telling him to eat breakfast. May hugging him. 

Peter released a huge breath and as suddenly as they had disappeared, all the background noises he had been unable to hear came rushing back with a force that made him gasp out loud.

“Peter? Oh my god, Peter, are you okay?” 

Peter looked around, seeing Ned, MJ and Mr. Harrington all crowding around him. Harley was nowhere to be seen. 

“Yeah,” he finally let out, his voice so quiet and hoarse he doubted anyone had even heard him. “Yeah, I’m okay,” he said again, this time louder. He was okay. Everything was fine.

That was just a one-time thing.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days were strange, to say the least. Ned and MJ were more careful around him than before. Some students who had witnessed his supposed panic attack gave him strange looks. Even Flash, who normally would use any possibly embarrassing thing that happened to Peter as an excuse to taunt him, had been oddly silent around him. His teachers gave him weird smiles and spoke more softly to him than before. And he had barely seen Harley outside of class. 

Peter was starting to get sick of it.

It had been a fluke. There was no reason to assume it would happen again. Sure, he had had nightmares almost every night since Tony’s death, but that was just his sub-conscious being an asshole to him. He had never had panic attacks before. Just, the combination of Harley’s sudden appearance and thinking about Tony had set it off. Now he was used to Harley being around (even if they hadn’t spoken since The Incident, as Peter referred to it) so there was no chance of another attack. People didn’t need to coddle him. He was fine.

“Guys, can you stop?” Peter snapped. A silence fell between him and his two friends who had up until then been engaged in a two-way conversation over their lunch.

“...Stop what?”

Peter huffed. “I know what you’re doing. You guys have been talking about that essay MJ’s doing for class for, like, ten minutes. I know your essay involves Stark Industries. You don’t have to keep avoiding his fucking name all the time.”

Ned flushed while MJ knit her brows. “We get it,” she said, her harsh tone taking Peter by surprise. “We’ve been too careful with you and you don’t like it. For that, I’m sorry. But you don’t have to be a dick about it, Peter. It’s not like we forgot what you looked like crying and shaking on that floor. So can you please give us some slack because honestly-” she looked at him and let out a wet chuckle that was so unlike MJ that it made Peter shift uncomfortably in his seat, “-we’re still really fucking scared.”

It felt like a bucket of ice-cold guilt had been poured onto Peter.

“God, I’m sorry,” he croaked. “Jesus, that was such a dick move. I’m really sorry,” Peter ran his hand through his hair and looked at Ned and MJ, his eyes pleading for them to forgive him.

“Dude, it’s fine. We get it. I mean, we haven’t even talked about what happened and there isn’t exactly a playbook for how to act when your friend has a panic attack in the school hallway so we didn’t really know what to do. We just didn’t want to make it worse.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. It’s just, I don’t really know what to do either. Like, I feel fine. It hasn’t happened again and I’m pretty sure it won’t.” At that, MJ looked at him with doubt, but Peter chose to ignore it. “And I think it wouldn’t have been as bad if…”

“If what?” Ned questioned.

“If Harley hadn’t been there.”

Ned and MJ frowned. “He was trying to help. He practically ran to you when he saw what was going on,” MJ said.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t help. Hearing his voice, it just. It made it worse and then I thought I, I thought I saw Mr. Stark. And then I started panicking. And then Mr. Harrington came and Harley wasn’t there anymore and I felt better.”

“So you’re saying that Harley, like, triggered your panic attack?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Why?” 

Peter sighed and tipped his head back, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ _I don't know._ He, he reminds me of Mr. Stark. I think. And, and I guess I’ve been trying to forget about him and now that Harley’s here, it’s harder.”

“Peter,” MJ said firmly, “the point of moving on isn’t to try to forget the person, you dummy.”

Peter blinked. “What?”

MJ groaned. “You can’t move on and be at peace with someone important to you dying if all you’re trying to do is to forget that they even existed. That’s not healthy and that’s probably the reason what happened happened in the first place. Harley just made you remember that Tony Stark was real and not just someone who crosses your mind once in a while.”

“You think so?” Peter asked quietly. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

“So, what - how do I get over him? What do I do?”

“Well,” Ned interjected, “I think you should start by talking to Harley.”

Peter cast a disbelieving look at his friend. “What? How would that help?”

“I think he’s right,” MJ said. “It could be good for you to talk to someone who knew him like you did. A bit like group therapy, but instead of sitting in a circle of ten people sharing your traumas, you guys could just swap stories about Stark.”

Peter contemplated it. “You think that would help?”

“I don’t know,” MJ admitted. “But it’s worth a shot.”

Peter had thought about it. And then thought about it some more. And he hadn’t come any closer to actually trying to talk to Harley. Not to mention that Harley seemed to be avoiding him. Maybe. Peter wasn’t exactly the best at analyzing other people and their actions, so it was entirely possible that Harley wasn’t avoiding him and they just happened to not be in the same places at the same time while not in class. Contrarily, it was also possible that he was avoiding Peter in which case, ouch, first of all, but also; why? What reason would he have for avoiding Peter? If anything, that wink during their first class together had seemed to indicate anything but avoidance from the other person. And if Harley really had tried to help Peter during his panic attack, it wouldn’t make sense that that would be the reason he was avoiding him. Right?

It was confusing, and frustrating and Peter was contemplating ambushing Harley right after class before he had a chance to leave, but alas, he didn’t have to do that after all. Thanks to Mr. Dell, of all people.

“Group projects. I hear you, they’re not the best. One person is gonna do all the work and the others are going to slack off - believe me, I get it. But it’s in the curriculum, so we gotta deal. I’ve made your groups in advance, so you better listen so that you’ll know who you’ll be working with on this project for the next two weeks. Everybody still with me?”

“Yes, Mr. Dell,” the class answered in a chorus.

“Alright. First group: Ned Leeds, Betty Brant, and Michelle Jones.”

Peter and Ned grumbled and Ned patted his arm. “Better luck next time,” he said and then gave MJ a smile. Peter was visibly unhappy with not being in the same group with Ned and MJ, but decided that he wasn’t going to be a brat about it. He usually did well in group projects anyway, and in a class of almost twenty people, he doubted he would fair much worse.

“Next group: Harley Keener, Eugene Thompson, and Peter Parker.”

The whole classroom went silent and Peter heard Flash curse under his breath.

Well shit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for another panic attack in this one, and mention of panic attacks in chapter 5. 
> 
> (Actually, there's probably gonna be more panic attacks down the road, so consider this a trigger warning for panic attacks for the rest of the fic)

Ned told him it could have been worse. Peter didn’t believe that. MJ had offered little consolation, but she had told Peter that if Flash tried anything with him, he should tell her and she would rearrange his bones. Peter was more scared of MJ being serious than of Flash actually doing anything. And to be fair, Flash hadn’t done anything. Yet. And neither had Harley, which had Peter feeling more than annoyed.

After Mr. Dell had announced all the groups, he had told everyone to work out a plan for the project and start working on it as soon as possible. The project being something related to reusable energy sources, but for the first time in his academic career, Peter hadn’t listened to the instructions or the subject matter of the project all that closely. Mostly he was just worried about why Harley was definitely avoiding him, and what would happen if Flash started to pick on him when Harley was around. Would he help? Or just ignore it? Maybe he would even go along with it. 

No. No, he wouldn’t do that. Peter didn’t know much about Harley, but no friend-slash-protegee of Tony Stark’s was a bully. No way. 

Peter sighed as he walked to the subway station. He was going through his contacts in his phone, Harley’s name in bold, black letters staring back at him. The most they had interacted after the class was Harley giving him his phone number. He had left as soon as Peter had punched the numbers in and that was it. Harley had been sending so many mixed signals in Peter’s way since he came here that it was seriously starting to piss him off. Peter clicked his tongue and pocketed his phone before stepping into one of the subway carriages.

If Harley didn’t want to talk to Peter, then he might as well forget about the stupid plan of talking to him about Tony. He didn’t actually think it would help anyway. And forgetting still felt like the more painless option when his other option was confronting his grief head-on. He had done that before. And it sucked. And this time he didn’t have the help of new and exciting abilities to distract him. Sure, he still had those abilities, but climbing up walls wasn’t nearly as thrilling as it had been three years ago. Not to mention the fact that a mere glance at either of his suits just brought back memories of Tony and space, and Tony dying and- god, where was he going with this again? The pressure in his chest was becoming unbearable, and he started to double over, his grip around the metal pole next to the seats tightening with every breath he took. He needed to forget, to just not think for a second-

“Parker?”

His eyes snapped open. No. Not here, not now, Peter couldn’t deal with him right now, _fuck-_

“Parker, just breathe, okay? You’re in Queens, you’re in the subway and you’re wearing an awful science pun t-shirt. Honestly, where do you get your clothes?”

What? What the hell was he on about? Peter lifted his gaze and started breathing heavily, his eyes focused on a loose strand of hair on Harley’s forehead.

“There you go, Parker. Just breathe - in and out, in and out. Damn, now I’m craving burgers,” he muttered, and Peter had to laugh. Here he was, in the middle of yet another panic attack, in public, and Harley was making fun of his wardrobe and talking about burgers while attempting to make him calm down. God, he hated his life.

“What are you laughing at, Parker? I haven’t eaten since breakfast. I’m allowed to have cravings.”

“Why,” Peter heaved, his lungs burning as he tried to speak, “why didn’t you eat-” he swallowed around a lump in his throat, “-eat during lunch?” he finally managed to ask while his grip on the pole next to him slackened, making him lurch forward only to have Harley catch him and help him balance back up.

“Whoa, there, take it easy. And to answer your question, the cafeteria food here sucks. For a smart school, you’d think they’d realize that grease is in fact not a topping on a pizza.”

“That’s debatable,” Peter grunted as he tried to level his breathing. 

Harley chuckled. “Whatever you say, darlin’”

They stood in silence after that, Peter still working to relax himself and Harley throwing awkward glances his way - to make sure he was alright? Peter didn’t know and didn’t care. 

“What are you doing here?” Peter finally asked, hoping he didn’t sound too rude.

“Pretty sure the same as you. On my way home,” he shrugged, biting his lip. Peter narrowed his eyes.

“Why haven't I seen you before if we take the same subway?”

Harley let out a dry chuckle. “Would it be awful rude of me to say I was purposefully avoiding talking to you?”

Peter lifted his brows. “A little,” he conceded. “But I already gathered as much at school. Why exactly have you been avoiding me?” he frowned and looked up at the other boy.

Harley opened his mouth and closed it again, then scratched the back of his neck and looked at the ground. “I don’t know. I mean, I do. But it’s dumb. Maybe. It’s just, you looked so shocked, during that first class. And at first I thought, you know, obviously you were shocked. I would’ve been too if I didn’t already know you went to Midtown. But then you seemed really off for the rest of the class. And then I saw you have a panic attack in the hallway and when I came to help, you… I don’t even know if you remember this, but you just started screaming for me to leave. Well, not me, specifically. Well, yes me, specifically, but you didn’t say my name or anything so I don’t think anyone else realized you were talking about me. But I knew. ‘Cause the second you realized who I was, you got this real scared look on your face and started yelling. So I waited until a teacher came and then left. I thought maybe you didn’t like me or something. It’s not like we really bonded at the funeral or anything, you know?”

Peter exhaled loudly. “Shit, man. I, I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just you, you remind me of him.”

“Him? Tony?”

Peter flinched. He didn’t know why. He never flinched when Ned or MJ talked about him. “Yeah,” he said, trying not to show how much the mention of his former mentor’s name had affected him. “And I guess I’m not, like, really over him. Yet. And you just, you feel like you’re a part of him. Like Mrs. Potts, or Morgan or Colonel Rhodes. I haven’t talked to them since the, the funeral. And it helped me try to forget, I guess.” The more Peter tried to explain himself to Harley, the more he himself started to realize his own reasons behind his actions. He _hadn't_ seen Pepper or Morgan or Rhodey since the funeral. And not for the lack of trying on their parts - Pepper contacted May weekly to get updates on Peter. But now that he put it all into perspective - now that he was starting to realize why Harley was affecting him in this way and why he refused to see or speak to anyone else who had been close to Tony - he was starting to get that maybe MJ had had a point. Maybe trying to forget wasn’t the best choice.

“I think having you here, it’s just forcing me to acknowledge that Tony was real,” he echoed MJ’s words, “and that he’s really gone. That he’s gone and he’s left all of us here, alone, without him. And before I could pretend like that wasn’t the case. And I can’t anymore. So, yeah. I don’t dislike you,” he said. “It’s me, not you,” Peter finished off with a lame attempt at a joke and cracked a smile, albeit a weak one.

“That’s,” Harley started, nodding slowly but not looking at Peter. “That actually makes sense. Kind of. You were a lot closer to him, anyway. I get why it’s harder for you to move on.”

Peter frowned. “Are you kidding? To- Mr. Stark talked about you like you were his actual son. Honestly, I couldn’t get a day’s worth of lab work done without him mentioning you in some capacity.”

“Seriously?” Harley asked, looking skeptical. “I mean, you actually worked with him. And he never shut up about you. I actually did think you were his son for a hot minute,” he laughed.

“No way!” Peter exclaimed, a grin tugging at his lips. “You’ve known him for longer than I have, anyway. You guys met when you were, like, twelve.”

“Yeah, but we rarely saw each other after that. Sure, he called and texted all the time and he kept sending money for rent and bills ‘cause he knew my mom was having a tough time trying to raise me and my sister with only her salary. But every time he called since he’d met you, it was just Peter this and Peter that. I was a bit jealous for a while, to be honest.”

“Jealous? Of me?” Peter’s eyes bugged out. “Why would you be jealous of me?”

“Because,” Harley blushed. “I thought he was replacing me. Tony wasn’t exactly known for being fatherly, so it was nice being the one kid he kinda acted paternal towards. Made me feel special. But when I realized he still cared about me and the more he talked about you, the more I actually wanted to meet you, so the jealousy just fizzled out over time.”

“You wanted to meet me?”

“Well, yeah,” Harley looked at him sheepishly. “Tony made you sound really cool. I mean, he did leave out the awful t-shirts and you being so small, but everything else has been true so far,” he smirked.

“Hey!” Peter bellowed. “I am not small.” Harley lifted his brow. “Maybe a little vertically challenged,” Peter lamented, “but my shirts are still cool. Nothing wrong with science puns.”

“Sure thing, darlin’” Harley chuckled. Peter tilted his head.

“Why do you call me that? Is it like a Southern thing?” he asked.

“What, darlin’? Yeah, kind of. Why, do want me to stop?” Harley asked, furrowing his brows and shifting awkwardly on his feet.

“No,” Peter found himself saying. “No, I don’t mind it. I was just curious.”

Harley smiled. “Great. Oh, I think this is your stop, darlin’,” he winked and stepped out of Peter’s way so that he could exit the carriage. Peter blushed and yelled a quick ‘bye’ over his shoulder before hurrying out the sliding doors.

Peter could feel something fluttering in his stomach as he watched Harley waving at him from the window before the carriage started moving again. At first, he thought it was another attack, but when the now-familiar panic didn’t seem to accompany his other sensations, Peter realized what the feeling had been.

He was happy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter has some elements from FFH, but I figured since those elements are pretty much shown in the trailers and not that important to the plot of the movie, that it was okay to have them here.
> 
> Those elements being May helping people after the blip and doing charity work, and whatever the hell's going on between May and Happy.

Peter hadn’t told May about the panic attacks. He just hadn’t seen any reason to unnecessarily worry her. She was working herself to death as it was, trying to help all the people who had lost their homes after the blip and setting up charity events left and right. There was too much for her to worry over already, not to mention that she did still have to take care of Peter. So telling her about the two panic attacks (that weren’t even that bad, honestly) would just have been cruel.

But maybe, in hindsight, it would have been good to at least allude to the fact that he was now dealing with more than just his nightly nightmares. Because then it wouldn’t have come as such a huge shock to them when Peter practically crumbled to the floor when he saw May entering their apartment with Happy in tow.

That had been the worst panic attack yet. Not that he had too many to compare it to, but it had been _bad._ Everything about Happy just screamed Tony. Peter didn’t know what he was doing with May or what he was doing at their apartment but he hadn’t had time to care because as soon as the words ‘Hey, kid’ had left his mouth, Peter had dropped his glass of orange juice onto the floor and experienced something so painful he was almost convinced he had suffered a heart attack.

May had been terrified. Happy had been too, but somehow he knew immediately what was going on and what to do. Peter knew that Tony had suffered from anxiety and some form of PTSD, and it made him miserable to think that the reason why Happy had been able to be relatively calm and helpful in the presence of Peter having such a violent attack was because he had learned to deal with them for Tony.

Now, after the worst was over and he was seated on the couch next to May while Happy stood in the corner of the room, he still couldn’t fully stop shaking or wincing when his eyes caught sight of the older man. Fuck, he really had gone down the wrong road with all this trying to just forget crap. Now he was reaping what he sowed and a part of him couldn’t help but think that he deserved it.

“Peter, what the hell was that?” May finally broke the silence, her eyes watering as she looked at Peter.

“Just, just a panic attack. It wasn’t even that bad, May, I swear-”

“Bullshit. That’s bullshit and you know it, Peter. When did it start?”

Peter frowned. “When you and Happy walked in-”

“No. That’s not what I meant. That clearly wasn’t the first attack you’ve had. When did you start having them?” she asked, her tone firm and her eyes fully focused on Peter.

“Um, last, last Monday. I’ve only had two, before this. And they haven’t been as bad.” May gave him a look. “I swear!” Peter shouted. “You can ask Ned and MJ. Or Harley. This is the first time it’s been that bad.”

“Harley?” Happy piped up from where he stood, making Peter once again aware of the man’s presence. “Harley Keener?” he asked again.

“Yeah,” Peter said, not lifting his gaze to look at him. “He transferred to Midtown on Monday.”

Peter couldn’t see him, but he somehow knew Happy was frowning. “He wasn’t supposed to go to Midtown,” he said, making Peter finally lift his gaze from the couch cushions to look at him.

“What?” he asked, confused. “What do you mean he wasn’t supposed to go to Midtown?”

Happy pursed his lips. “About a month ago, Pepper and I started to plan for him to move to New York,” he said. “We kept tabs on him and he wasn’t doing too hot in Tennessee, especially since after Tony, and so we thought maybe a change of scenery would be good. He’d get to make new friends and Pepper and I could help his mom get a better job so she could support him and his sister. I pretty much left Pepper to deal with all the school stuff after we had moved them out here, but I know Midtown wasn’t on the list of schools we were thinking for him. We thought it might have been too sciency and different from his old school.”

Peter regarded Happy’s words, the gears in his head turning as he thought back to his earlier conversation with Harley on the subway. 

_“And at first I thought, you know, obviously you were shocked. I would’ve been too if I didn’t already know you went to Midtown.”_

_“If I didn’t already know you went to Midtown.”_

His eyes widened at the implication. Harley had known he went to Midtown. He hadn’t transferred there because someone had suggested the school. He had transferred there because he knew that that’s where Peter was. Harley chose Midtown because of _him._

“Holy shit,” Peter whispered under his breath.

May was looking from Peter to Happy to back to Peter, clearly completely out of the loop. “Okay, I don’t know what and who you two are talking about, but I still have questions for you, Peter,” she said, making Peter snap out of his thoughts. “I want to know why the hell you’ve started having panic attacks and why on Earth did I have to find out about them like this?”

Peter sighed and ran his both his hands up and down the back of his neck. “It’s complicated. Mostly it’s about, about Mr. Stark. But also about Harley. And Happy. And maybe other people too. It’s still pretty new, honestly, and I only fully figured why I was even having them, like, yesterday. So go a little easy on me, okay?”

May’s expression softened and she lifted her hand to stroke Peter’s cheek. “Oh, honey. I’m sorry, I was just… scared. And I just don’t understand why you haven’t told me.”

So Peter told her. About the first attack, about how Harley made it worse. He told her about what MJ had said, about Harley avoiding him, about the second panic attack on the subway. He told her about how Harley had helped this time, about why he had been avoiding him. He told her about not wanting to add to her worry, about the nightmares always waking her up and how he didn’t want this to be yet another thing to add to her list of burdens. He told her why he hasn’t wanted to see Pepper or Morgan, and why he always rejected Rhodey’s requests to go up-state. He told her how seeing Happy had been the worst because he was such a huge part of Tony, but also a huge part of Peter’s life while Tony had still been alive. He told her about trying to forget and how it had made everything so much worse and how he should’ve already learned from dealing with Ben’s death that it was stupid of him to even try to forget.

And once he was done, he was openly crying into May’s shirt, not caring that Happy was still there, witnessing the whole debacle.

“God, you are too young have so many things weighing you down,” May sighed as she held him tightly and put her chin on top of his head. “How you have had the strength to go about your day like nothing’s happened is impressive. You’re the strongest person I know. But you gotta realize that you can always, always talk to me. Whatever it is, you come to me, okay? You don’t have to tell me everything if you don’t want to, but I just need to know that you’re not bottling it all up inside. Okay? Promise me?” Peter nodded and released his hold on May, sitting back up on the couch. 

“I promise, May,” he said quietly, but he knew May could tell from his tone that he was being honest.

Happy cleared his throat. “Well, that was something,” he said awkwardly. “You know, May, I can come back another day. I feel like I’ve already intruded on a personal moment, so I’m just gonna…” he gestured towards the door and went to reach the doorknob before May stopped him.

“Oh, no you don’t. You coming here was an important step in our relationship,” she said, prying his hand away from the door.

“Relationship?” Peter croaked from where he still sat on the couch. “What relationship?”

May and Happy looked at each other before they both sported nervous smiles and looked down at Peter.

“See, Peter, Happy has been volunteering and helping with some of the charities, and…”


	6. Chapter 6

The weekend went by in a blur. Peter had texted Harley about their group project and they had decided that they should start it on Monday. Peter had tried to text Flash, whose number he already had purely because of Academic Decathlon, but had gotten no answer. It didn’t take a genius to get that Flash wanted no part in the project. Peter would have been fine with that. The less amount of time he had to spend in his vicinity, the better. He would have gladly completed the project with Harley and let Flash pretend like he had been an integral part of the process, but Harley disagreed.

“No way, Parker,” he told him on Monday morning when they met at Peter’s locker before class. “I’m not a pushover. No way I’ll let him take credit for something he hasn’t done.”

“What you’re implying there is that _I'm_ a pushover,” Peter replied, lifting his brow. 

“And? Your point is?” Harley grinned.

“That’s cold,” Peter laughed. “And untrue. I’m not a pushover - I’d just rather not get Flash riled up,” he admitted.

“Why?” Harley frowned.

Oh, right. Peter hadn’t told him exactly how big of a dick Flash was outside of just refusing to do his work.

“Well, he’s just, you know. Not… nice,” he finished quietly.

“Not nice? What, does he bully you or something?” Harley quirked his brow.

Peter went quiet, burying his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and biting his cheek.

“Wait, seriously?” Harley gaped. “Why didn’t you say anything? How bad is it? Does he beat you up?”

“What? No! He’s just, he’s an asshole, okay? And sometimes he says things and it’s shitty but he’s not, like, violent, or anything. He’s just a spoiled rich kid. But sometimes he gets under my skin. And considering what’s been happening with the, the panic attacks and stuff, I’d just rather avoid him, if possible.”

Harley set his lips in a tight line. “Well, he hasn’t gotten the Keener treatment yet - he’ll be working up a sweat doing that project in no time - you’ll see,” he smirked and started to walk faster towards the class.

“Wait, Harley!” Peter yelled after him. “Don’t do anything stupid! Harley!”

When Peter reached the classroom after Harley, it was already too late to stop the other boy from sauntering up to Flash’s desk, where he was currently cackling with his friends. Or his goons, as Peter liked to call them. 

“What’s up, Eugene?” Harley said as he sat on Flash’s desk and knocked down his back bag that had taken up most of the space on it.

“What the fuck? What’s your problem, Keener?” he all but growled. Peter gulped from behind Harley. This was not going to end well.

“Oh, nothing much. Just wondering about that group project for Dell’s class - is it okay if we start today?”

Flash let out a mocking laugh. “You didn’t get the hint? I’m not doing some dumb project with you and Penis over there. I have better things to do because unlike _some_ people, I actually have a life. Now get the fuck off my desk, farm boy.”

Harley narrowed his eyes. “You know, I was trying to be nice, _Eugene._ But I guess that’s not gonna work for you. And I'll only say this once, so listen carefully; if you won’t do your part of the project, I’ll make it my sole mission to make sure you fail the whole fucking class. Oh, and if you ever call Parker names again, I’ll show you exactly how we handled jerks like you in the South. And let me tell you, it ain’t pretty.”

Holy _fuck._

Was it hot in the room or was it just Peter? 

When Flash didn’t say anything back, instead opting to gape at Harley and seemingly mull over his threats, Harley jumped off the desk and walked over to Peter who was just as speechless as Flash. Though for very different reasons. At least he hoped their reasons were different.

“And that’s the Keener treatment, darlin’” Harley winked and walked past Peter to his seat.

_Shit,_ Peter thought to himself. This was not supposed to happen. 

“So, what? You have a crush on Harley now?”

Peter glared at MJ. “No. No, I don’t have a crush on Harley. It’s just, he was just-”

“Hot? Sexy? Arou-”

“Okay, okay, stop! I get it. And no, it’s not that he was… At least I don’t think…”

“I haven’t got all day, you know,” MJ crossed her arms and leaned into the bleachers. 

Peter sighed, bouncing his leg up and down as he watched Ned climbing up a rope while coach Wilson yelled at him to be faster. “I didn’t even know I was into guys,” he whispered. “And I don’t know what even happened today, with Harley. Maybe I was just surprised. Maybe it wasn’t like…”

“Attraction?”

“Yeah,” Peter exhaled. “Maybe I just misread my own reaction. Maybe it was nothing.”

“Or maybe it was. Why would that be such a bad thing?” MJ questioned, leaning closer to him. 

“It’s not. I mean, the fact that he’s a guy isn’t a bad thing. I don’t really care if this is me realizing I’m bisexual or something. It’s the fact that he’s _Harley,_ that’s the issue.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Peter clenched his teeth, “it would make things so much more complicated. We’re talking now. Not about, about Mr. Stark or anything, but we’re like, friends, I guess. But he still reminds me of him. And sometimes when I look at him, all I see is, is Mr. Stark. And when he calls me Parker, I sometimes hear it in, in _his_ voice. I haven’t had another panic attack because of him but it’s still a possibility. How the hell could I ever even toy with the idea of being with somebody who’s a constant reminder of my dead mentor and who I can never completely relax around because he might trigger an attack? It’s just, it’s not possible. I can’t do that.”

MJ bit her lip and sighed. “It’s a shitty situation. I’m sorry. But it doesn’t always have to be like that, you know? Maybe, if you get to know him better, things’ll change.”

“Maybe,” Peter huffed and half-heartedly waved at Ned who had caught his eye when coach Wilson had moved on to yell at some other poor student.

“Do you think he likes you?” MJ asked.

“What?” Peter blinked.

“Do you think Harley likes you?”

“I, I don’t,” Peter squirmed in his seat, “I don’t know. Probably not.” Peter thought about how, if his deductions were correct, Harley had enrolled in Midtown because of him. “It’s pretty difficult to tell. So far we’ve only interacted when we talked about our project or I had an attack.”

MJ hummed. “Yeah. You should try talking to him about other stuff.”

“Like, like Mr. Stark?”

“Sure,” MJ said, “or about your interests. And hobbies. And, I don’t know, whatever nerdy stuff you and Ned talk about all the time. You should try to get to know him, is what I’m trying to say.”

Peter thought about it. “I could do that. I think,” he nodded.

“Good,” MJ gave him a smile and picked up her book that had laid next to her feet since the beginning of gym class. “You guys could-”

“Parker! Jones!” coach Wilson yelled, making Peter whip his head around. “You two haven’t been doing much today. Care to tell me the reason for that?”

“Period cramps,” MJ answered coolly.

Coach Wilson narrowed his eyes but accepted it. “Fine. How ‘bout you, Parker? You on your period too?”

Peter blushed and shook his head. “No, Sir, I just-”

“Then you better get down from there and start doing some push-ups, ASAP, you hear me?”

Peter scrambled up from his seat, scowling at MJ who chuckled behind her book. “You better hurry, Spider-Boy. And don’t forget to stretch.”

“Ha. Ha,” Peter said dryly, walking down and giving coach Wilson an apologetic smile.

He was just about to get into position for his first push-up when something MJ had said caught up to him. Crap. Well, that was one more thing to complicate things with Harley even more. 

He had almost completely forgotten about his secret alter ego. Did Harley know? Had Tony ever told him about Spider-Man when they talked about him? Peter groaned and let himself fall onto the futon. Why did his life have to be so goddamn difficult? He winced when a loud whistle cut through his musings.

“Parker! Get up! That’s twenty more push-ups for slacking!”

Yup. He hated his life.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've read all your lovely comments and I have to say, they really made me feel warm and fuzzy inside! I honestly did start writing this just as a distraction from all of my other unfinished projects, and the fact that's it's turned into something that you guys have seemed to enjoy is pretty awesome.
> 
> Thank you!

Peter tried to be subtle about it. He and Harley had decided to go to the library after school to work on their project, though not before making sure that Flash knew his part and was actually going to do it. No need for them to work in the same space as long as everyone did their part, Harley had informed both of them. Peter was just glad he didn’t have to endure Flash’s presence after all. But once they reached the library and set their work in motion, Peter began his investigation on whether Harley knew he was Spider-Man or not. 

“So, uh, when, um, Mr. Stark talked about me, what exactly did he tell you about me?”

See? Subtle.

Harley didn’t glance up from his research. “Nothing too embarrassing, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said, grinning down at the stack of papers he was plowing through. 

Peter began tapping his pencil on top of the table. “No, that’s, that’s not what I meant. Did he ever, I don’t know, tell you how we met? Or something,” he mumbled, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and hoping he didn’t sound too suspicious.

Finally, Harley lifted his gaze and tilted his head at Peter. “Not in great detail,” he said slowly, staring at Peter like was trying to crack a code. “He said you applied for that September Foundation thing and got accepted as an intern. You became his personal intern, right? That’s why you guys were so close.” Harley’s tone suggested that he wasn’t so sure of his own statement. Which consequently made Peter sweat bullets because shit, Harley hadn’t known after all, and now Peter and his big, dumb mouth were close to revealing his identity. Good job, Parker.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I mean, as his personal intern I had to be pretty much wherever he was all the time so we became close. Super close. Well, not, like, _super,_ but, like, really close, I mean. And, and I actually got blipped when I was at Stark Industries, did you know?”

_Shut up, shut up, shut up._

“And, um, I found out about what happened from, from Happy. ‘Cause Happy and I were close too. Because of the internship. So, um, yeah.”

Fuck.

Harley squinted. “Right.”

Peter was now close to panicking and tried to come up with any other subject to talk about. “So, uh, where were you? When you got blipped, I mean,” he asked, hoping to steer the conversation more towards Harley.

“Making dinner,” he replied, shrugging. “Kinda boring, I guess, but when I got back I pretty much fell on my mom and scared the shit out of her ‘cause she was making dinner at the exact same spot. It was pretty funny, actually,” Harley laughed. “My mom and my sister didn’t blip, so they were both older when I came back. It was super weird. My little sister is now only a year younger than me. It still creeps me out sometimes.”

Peter frowned. “Wow. I guess I was really lucky - everyone important in my life got blipped so mostly it’s felt like those five years haven’t passed for me. It would’ve sucked if Ned or MJ were now five years older than me.”

“You’re glad your friends were basically dead for five years?”

Peter spluttered. “Wha- No! That’s not what I-”

“I’m kidding! Jeez, chill out Parker,” Harley chuckled. “You ever heard of sarcasm?”

Peter froze.

_You ever heard of sarcasm?_

“Parker? Hey, you okay?”

_“You ever heard of sarcasm, Underoos?”_

_Peter scoffed. “Yes, Mr. Stark, I’m pretty familiar with the concept,” he rolled his eyes._

_“Hey, now, no need for that attitude. I was just making a joke. You feeling okay? You’ve been kinda spaced out.”_

_“Yeah,” Peter sighed. “A bit burned out, I guess. We’re having extra AcaDec meetings after school and I’ve been patrolling every night this week. And it’s been kinda difficult trying to convince May that I’m not putting myself in constant danger so we’ve been fighting more than usual. And I’m pretty sure my friend MJ knows I’m Spider-Man and I don’t know if I can handle more people knowing.”_

_“Life’s tough, kid, what can I tell you,” Tony sighed, putting down the piece of Iron Man equipment he had been working on. “It’s one thing to be a stressed-out teenager but balancing a secret superhero life on top of it is a whole other beast to wrangle. You sure you don’t wanna put the mask on the shelf for a while?”_

_“No,” Peter said firmly. “Queens needs Spider-Man. I’m not letting my city down just because I feel a little stressed.”_

_“It’s your choice,” Tony conceded. “And hey, if you’re worried about that friend of yours finding out about your nightly adventures in spandex, I could probably figure something out.”_

_“That’s not necessary, Mr. Stark,” Peter smiled. “I don’t think she’d tell anyone. And she’s pretty tough - I don’t think any supervillains could handle her if they tried to hurt her to get to me.”_

“Parker! Peter, come on, talk to me!”

Peter gasped loudly, drawing in huge breaths and looking frantically around him, trying to locate Tony, before the realization hit him.

Right. Tony was still dead. That was just a memory.

“Parker?” Harley tentatively asked, and Peter turned to look at the other boy. He almost gasped again when he saw the look on Harley’s face.

“You scared the bejesus out of me, Christ,” Harley groaned and slumped into a chair next to Peter. “Are you okay? Was that another panic attack? It seemed different.” He swept his hair away from his face and looked at Peter with furrowed brows and wet eyes. 

“I don’t know. I just, it was a memory. Of, um, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah?” Harley frowned. “What caused it?”

Peter swallowed. “You said something about, about sarcasm and I-” Peter squeezed his eyes shut and ground his teeth, “Shit, Harley, I’m so sorry. I’m such a mess,” Peter let out a broken sob. “I want to move on, I do! But you, and, and Happy - who’s now apparently dating my Aunt, by the way, which I kinda hate - you guys just, you just make me _remember._ And I, I miss him _so much,_ Harley, I fucking miss him and I wanna be your friend and get to know you and spend time with you but it’s _hard_ because you remind me of him too much, and, and-”

“Okay, okay, easy,” Harley kneeled in front of Peter and rubbed his arms. “I am totally in favor of you letting out your emotions and crying your heart out, but there are currently approximately fifteen other people watching us and I’d rather you broke down somewhere more private. So do you think you can walk so we could get out of here?”

Peter blushed crimson, suddenly hyper-aware of the stares he and Harley were getting from the other occupants of the library and nodded quickly before letting Harley help him to his feet, which were actually quite a bit more wobbly than he had expected.

“You good?” Harley asked, still holding onto Peter’s arms to keep him upright. 

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Good,” Harley smiled. “Because I know just the place,” he said and steered Peter away from their gawking audience.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked, a little out of breath from having Harley drag him around town. They were currently on their way to what seemed like a small forest area on the edge of a park, and if Peter didn’t trust Harley as much as he did, he would’ve suspected the other teen had brought him here to be murdered.

“You’ll see,” Harley answered cryptically, and though Peter did have faith in that he wasn’t walking toward his own death, Harley’s non-answer still made him skeptical.

“Tada!” Harley announced as he finally stopped walking, making Peter halt behind him and almost run into his back. 

“Where, where are we?”

“I found this place a couple of weeks ago,” Harley explained, while Peter scanned his surroundings.

It was a small clearing, almost a perfect circle surrounded by trees, with lush green grass and small, yellow flowers covering the ground. The sun was shining in just the right way between the tops of the trees, making the clearing sunny but no too bright. The trees cast shadows on the ground, making them optimal places to sit down on and relax while still having the sun warm your skin.

It looked beautiful. Peter was torn between crying and grinning, still not having processed everything that happened at the library but immensely grateful and happy that Harley had shown him his apparently secret corner of the world.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Harley quipped, and Peter let out a breath. 

“Yeah,” he said, still slightly in awe of the place. “It’s great.”

“Wanna sit down?” Harley asked and gestured at one of the shadowy parts of the clearing. Peter nodded, and soon the two boys were laying next to each other on the grass, staring at the blue sky above them. 

“So,” Harley cleared his throat, “you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” Peter sighed. “But I have to at some point, I guess. I don’t know where to start, though.”

Harley bit his lip and drummed his fingers on his stomach. “Did you know that Tony bought me a car when I turned sixteen?”

“He did?” Peter asked, surprised.

“Yeah. A really nice one too - a freaking Ferrari.”

“Sounds like something he would do,” Peter mused with a strained smile on his face.

“I told him to take it back,” Harley said and Peter frowned at him. “No one else in my town was getting to drive a car like that so why should I? So I told him no thanks and asked him to take the damn car back. I was gonna work at the local garage to get enough money to buy my own car. Tony was stubborn, though. He refused to take the car back. But I refused to drive it. So there it sat, in our garage, gathering dust because I didn’t have it in me to just sell it either. I thought, you know, maybe once Abby was old enough to drive, she could have it. 

“And then the bastard went and died to save the universe. The self-sacrificing prick,” Harley chuckled. “After the funeral, I went back home, and when I saw that bright red Ferrari still in the garage, I lost it. I fucking lost it, man. I took a crowbar and just smashed and smashed until the car was nothing but a deformed pile of metal and broken glass. My mom was furious, obviously. It was an expensive car. But I didn’t care. ‘Cause when I looked at that car, all I saw was Tony. And I couldn’t handle it. It just hurt too much.” Harley clenched his fists and turned to Peter. “So I get it. I really do. And I’m sorry that right now, I’m _your_ Ferrari. I’d offer you a crowbar to hit me with, but I don’t think it would help in this particular situation,” he cracked a smile and turned back. Peter didn’t reply, instead opting to stare at the slowly moving clouds in the sky.

“Thank you,” he whispered after a few minutes had passed by, breaking the silence. 

Harley smiled. “Any time, Parker.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I've fallen more in love with Harley and Peter while writing this fic - and I'm not complaining.

“Um, hey guys. Nice to finally officially meet you.”

Peter was smiling. It had been his idea to finally introduce Harley to Ned and MJ. They all knew of each other, of course, but had yet to meet in person. So Peter had dragged Harley into the cafeteria that he usually avoided because of the ‘crappy food’ and told him to join him and his friends for lunch. 

“You too!” Ned exclaimed, offering his hand for a shake, which Harley accepted with a hesitant smile and a glance at Peter, who only shrugged and smiled, a universal gesture of ‘just go along with it’. MJ sat still with her arms crossed in front of her, quietly observing the interaction. 

Peter sat down next to Ned, who sat opposite of MJ. Harley seemed to contemplate where he would sit for a second before plopping down next to Peter.

“How’s it going, guys? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever with how busy we’ve been with the project,” Peter said apologetically.

“It’s fine,” Ned assured him. “We’ve been pretty busy too.”

“Oh, right. How are you doing with your project?”

“It’s going great,” MJ smirked and glanced at Ned who immediately blushed under her look. Peter regarded them warily.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“Nothing!” Ned was quick to insist. “MJ’s just being weird like usual.”

Peter’s lips curled upwards and he shared a look with Harley before turning back to his best friend. “I don’t think so. Come on, man - what’s up?”

“He has a crush on Betty.”

“MJ!”

“You have a crush on Betty?”

“No!” Ned yelled. “Maybe. Yes. I don’t know.”

MJ smirked again and Harley tried to hide his amusement by turning his head. Peter just frowned at Ned. “Well, that’s great. Why don’t you ask her out?”

“I don’t think she likes me,” Ned grumbled.

“How come?”

Ned sighed, placing his plastic fork onto his tray and leaning back in his chair. “She can be a little… blunt and snappish with me, I guess. Every time I try to ask her something, she barely lets me finish before she gives a really short, usually negative answer.”

“Why do you even like her if she’s rude to you?” Harley asked, opening his mouth for the first time since he sat down.

“Because… She’s really smart and hard-working, and she can actually be really nice and funny when she lets her guard down,” Ned answered, his voice careful and soft. It made Peter’s heart clench. God, his friend was such a softie. He loved it.

“I think she’s just awkward around you,” MJ offered. “She doesn’t know you that well and I bet she’s just nervous so she acts like that to not seem vulnerable when she’s with you. It’s pretty common.”

“Aren’t you a good judge of character,” Harley said, looking at MJ.

MJ narrowed her eyes and placed her elbows atop the table, resting her chin against her locked fingers. “I am,” she said, looking at Harley and ignoring Peter frantically mouthing at her to go easy on him. “So, Harley, tell us about yourself. What’s your thing?”

Harley visibly faltered. “My thing?”

“Yeah. Peter likes to do weird chemistry experiments-”

“Hey!”

“-Ned’s really into programming-”

“I can hack into things pretty easily.”

“-and I enjoy politics. And reading. And reading about politics. So,” she looked at Harley expectantly, “what’s _your_ thing?”

Harley swallowed. “Uh, engineering, I guess.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh, that’s right! Mr. Stark told me that you built, like, weapons when you were a kid,” he grinned. 

“Oh?” MJ arched her brow. “What did you build?”

Harley blushed. “Nothing, really. It was stupid, honestly. It wasn’t even that impressive or anything-”

“Harley,” Peter interrupted with a glint in his eyes, “what did you build?” he asked, a cheshire smile forming onto his face. Harley looked from Peter to Ned to MJ, who all looked at him eagerly, waiting for his answer. 

“...A potato gun?”

Peter snorted. “A potato gun? Wow. That is,” Peter grinned, “That’s awesome. A potato gun? Really?”

Harley glared at him. “Laugh it up, Parker, but I’ll have you know that Tony liked it. And I got to help him fix his broken suit too so don’t start thinking that that’s the only thing I ever did.”

“You fixed Iron Man’s suit?” Ned gaped. “That’s so badass.”

“It really was,” Harley said with a fond smile on his face. “I mean, the guy needed a lot of help back then. He was having panic attacks left and right. Not that my punk-ass really made it any better,” he laughed.

“Really?” Peter’s breath hitched. “He already had them back then?”

“Yeah,” Harley confirmed. “Ever since the attack on New York with the Chitauri and everything.” Harley regarded Peter carefully. “Tony wasn’t always as put together as he made everyone think. He was just as big of a mess as anyone,” he admitted, looking at Peter who was staring at his lunch tray with a frown. “I think Tony would understand what you’re going through better than anyone, really,” he added quietly.

“Yeah?” Peter’s eyes flickered up to Harley’s. “Do you think,” Peter paused for a second, “Do you think that he’d be glad that the two of us met?”

Harley grinned. “I think he’d be tearing his hair out and worrying about all the trouble we’d get up to.”

Peter smiled, poking a piece of carrot on his plate with his fork. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like him.”

MJ shared a quick look with Ned across the table, nodding towards the two boys, soundlessly expressing her approval of the new addition to their group.

“So, I have a question.”

Harley turned to Peter, who, until now, had been fully concentrated on his laptop screen. They were at the library again, working on their project, and hadn’t really talked since they sat down. Peter had wanted to avoid the incident from last time and had been a little on edge since he noticed the librarian behind her desk occasionally staring at them. 

“Shoot,” Harley said, putting down his pen that he had been using to make notes.

“Why Midtown?”

“Uh,” Harley opened his mouth and closed it again. “It seemed nice,” he finally said. “And maybe, also, Tony might have, you know, just in passing mentioned that, that you went to Midtown so it just came to my mind when I moved out here. So. That’s why,” he finished, scratching the back of his neck and looking anywhere but Peter. 

“Really?” Peter asked, a tentative smile blossoming on his face.

“Well, I,” Harley sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, I got intrigued, right? At the funeral. I didn’t know who you were, and then you introduced yourself and I thought, ‘holy shit, that’s _Parker',_ and then we didn’t talk after that. And Tony just, he just talked about you all the time so after the funeral, I was kinda bummed that I didn’t talk to you more. And _then,_ Happy and Pepper were moving us out here, and Pepper was talking about schools and I just remembered Tony mentioning how you went to Midtown and I… asked Pepper if I could transfer here instead.” He looked at Peter, who was staring at the table with his mouth slightly open. 

So he had been right. Huh.

“Do you wanna go get something to eat after we’re finished here?” Peter suddenly asked, his eyes wide and hopeful.

Harley blanched. “What, like a…”

“Just as friends!” Peter was quick to assure, his voice going up an octave or two. “I just thought that maybe you’d be hungry. And since we haven’t really just, hung out together yet, I figured we could…,” he trailed off when he realized that Harley still looked a little stunned. “It’s totally cool if you’re, like, busy or something,” he quickly added, blushing furiously.

“No, no, I’m not busy,” Harley insisted. “We can totally grab a bite after. I’m actually almost finished for today, so we could like, go now? If you want,” he said, a nervous tinge to his voice.

“Yeah,” Peter exhaled. “That sounds good.”

“Cool,” Harley said, biting his lip. “Cool, cool, cool,” he repeated. “We should like, pack up,” he rose from his seat and started gathering his notes.

“Totally,” Peter’s voice cracked as he started shoving his laptop and a few askew papers into his bag. “So what do you like?”

“What?” Harley asked, looking up from where he was zipping his backpack.

“Food,” Peter explained, his cheeks burning. “What kind of food do you like?”

“Whatever, really. You probably know all the good places so. You can decide.”

“Okay, sure,” Peter nodded, going through every possible restaurant, cafe and hot dog stand in his mind. “Yeah, I’ll, I’ll figure something out. For sure.”

“Great. You ready?”

“Yeah,” Peter said, looking up at Harley who seemed to be nervously twisting the strings hanging from his hoodie. “Yeah, I’m ready,” he smiled and lifted his backpack onto his shoulders.

Ready as ever, he thought as they exited the building.


	9. Chapter 9

“So where did you guys go?”

“This really nice Mexican place that’s open 24/7 where I sometimes go eat before or after patrol,” Peter said, smiling at the memory.

“But it wasn’t a date?” MJ asked, leaning into Ned’s bed.

The three of them had gone to Ned’s house after school, not having really spent all that much time together outside of school in a while. Peter and Ned had wanted to have a Star Wars marathon, but since MJ couldn’t be bothered with their ‘nerd stuff’, as she so eloquently put it, they ended up sprawled on the floor in Ned’s room, Peter leaning against his desk and Ned and MJ against the bed. The two had been grilling Peter about his and Harley's not-date since he had made the mistake of mentioning it.

Peter blushed, avoiding looking at MJ who was staring at him like she was trying to detect potential lies. “No, it wasn’t a date,” he insisted.

_“Ah, Peter! I haven’t seen you in forever!”_

_“Good to see you too, Laura,” Peter greeted the woman behind the register. Harley gave him a funny look but Peter waved him off. “Table for two?” he asked, swaying on the soles of his feet and trying not to seem too nervous or excited._

_“For you?” Laura smiled. “Always.”_

_“So, darlin’” Harley whispered and leaned into Peter as they were led to their table, “you’re a regular, I take it?”_

_Peter flushed when he felt Harley’s breath in his ear, his heart thrumming loudly in his chest. “Something like that,” Peter let out a nervous chuckle. “The people here are just really friendly. I think Laura remembered me by name after, like, the first two times I came here.”_

_Once he and Harley were seated at the table, Peter’s hands started to sweat. Harley wouldn’t know it, but bringing him here was bridging the gap between him and Peter’s other identity. Peter wasn’t exactly sure why he decided to bring Harley here. He wasn’t ready to tell him about Spider-Man - definitely not. Even the idea of Harley finding out made his stomach turn. But still, Peter had brought him to a place that he associated heavily with his web-slinging alter ego. He was sure that there was some type of symbolism or a deeper meaning to his decision, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it before it came time for them to order their food._

_“So, what will you two love birds have today?” Laura asked playfully, winking at Peter._

_“Oh, we’re not-”_

_“He’s not my-”_

_“We’re just friends,” Peter stated awkwardly, noting that Harley’s cheeks seemed to be burning with the same redness as his own._

“Peter?”

“Huh?” Peter snapped out of his thoughts, turning towards the voice calling his name.

“Where’d you go?” MJ frowned, peering at her friend’s face. “We kind of lost you there for a second.”

“Oh, sorry,” Peter chuckled, slightly embarrassed. “Just remembered something. I’m back now,” he added jokingly, then looked at his lap and furrowed his brows. “It wasn’t a date,” he suddenly said, seemingly out of nowhere, making Ned and MJ frown at him. “Definitely not,” he repeated.

Peter did actually like Harley. Sure, he may have been in denial to his friends, but he couldn’t lie to himself. Harley was funny and sweet and a little teasing and Peter really liked him. He had only ever had a crush on one person, and that hadn’t ended so well. At least now he was fairly certain that no parent of Harley’s was going to end up being a supervillain selling stolen alien tech to criminals. But still, he almost felt even more intimidated by his feelings for Harley than he had felt during that fateful car ride with Toomes.

He was still struggling with seeing echoes of Tony whenever he spent time with Harley. Now he was able to repress those surging memories, but it still left him on edge even when he was laughing and blushing and joking around with the other teen. It didn’t help that now Happy spent more time at his apartment with May which made him even more anxious of impending panic attacks than Harley. And apparently, Pepper was trying to get into contact with him, which was… No. Just no. Harley, he could handle. Happy he could tolerate. But Pepper? He didn’t know what his reaction to seeing Pepper would be, but he knew it wouldn’t be good. In his mind, Pepper was almost interchangeable with Tony. 

But he was getting better. He was getting to know Harley more, he was spending time with Ned and MJ, he was doing well in school, he had been nightmare-free for three consecutive nights - really, if it wasn’t for the occasional shivers he got whenever Happy called him ‘kid’ or when Harley talked about his love for engineering with the same passion Tony used to have, he would almost consider himself normal.

Which was why he was so angry and disappointed and frustrated when he woke up to his own screams and May shaking him awake in his bed.

“Peter? Peter, honey, wake up. It’s me, everything’s okay,” May cooed and gathered Peter in her arms. He was sobbing and shivering, bunching May’s nightshirt tightly into his fists, trying to ground himself to reality.

“He, he was there and then, then he just stopped breathing,” Peter hiccuped, burrowing his head even further into May’s neck. “And, and I couldn’t save him, May, I wasn’t _strong enough,_ I could’ve saved him if I just-”

“Peter, peter. Listen to me: you did nothing wrong, okay?” May ran her fingers through his hair, stroking the nape of his neck. “He did what he had to do to save everyone. And you helped. You did so good, Peter, _so_ good. You were so strong, you _are_ so strong, he would be so proud,” she kept whispering into his hair, letting Peter slowly calm down until he was only quietly sniffling into her shirt.

“I just thought…,” Peter croaked. “I thought maybe I was getting better,” he whimpered. “I thought the nightmares might have stopped. I guess I thought I was just, making progress,” he admitted, lifting his head from the crook of May’s neck and letting go of her to lean against the headboard of his bed. “And I’ve been kind of happy recently too. Not that I wasn’t before.” He mused for a second. “Or maybe I wasn’t,” he confessed, thinking back on the last few months. “I guess I had, like, moments of happiness, you know? Like when me and Ned built that new Lego set, or when I’d go out with him and MJ. Or when we had movie nights,” he said, gesturing between him and May. “But then when I wasn’t,” he searched for the right word, “distracted, I guess, I just wasn’t…”

“Content?” May guessed.

“Yeah. Yeah, content,” Peter nodded, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “It just felt like something was missing. And, and obviously, I know that Mr. Stark was what was missing and I can’t get him back. But then ever since Harley came here and we started talking… It’s not that he, like, replaced Mr. Stark-”

“Of course not,” May confirmed and stroked Peter’s wet cheek, a somber smile on her face.

“-but he makes me feel…,” Peter trailed off, pursing his lips before sighing. “I don’t know. He just makes me _feel._ You know?”

“Yeah, honey I know,” May said quietly, adjusting her position on Peter’s bed and coming to sit closer to him. “But Peter, getting better isn’t some clear linear line you can just follow.”

Peter let out a fairly unattractive wet snort. “When did you learn fancy words like linear?”

“Shush, you, I’m trying to have a teachable moment here,” May chided.

“Sorry,” Peter fought off a grin. “Please continue.”

“As I was saying,” May fixed him with an amused look, “getting better isn’t just about getting from point A to point B and then C and so on and so on until you reach Z. It’s more like going from point A to C and then back to A. Some days you skip a lot of points and some days you can go all the way back from point Q to point D. Then someday, you’ll finally get to Z, but even then it doesn’t mean you’ll always stay there. Grief is unpredictable like that,” she said, glancing at the picture of Uncle Ben on Peter’s desk. Peter bit his cheek. 

“And the death of someone you loved, it’s… it’s not something you really ever get over. It’ll always stay with you, but that’s why you gotta surround yourself with people who help make your life worth living again,” she stressed, looking into Peter’s eyes, still glossy with tears. “And I don’t mean just existing, but actually living. And I feel that, for the past few months, all you’ve done is just exist. And now, maybe, you’ll get to finally live again. No nightmare or panic attack or painful memory should take that away from you, so don’t let them. Laugh when you’re happy. Cry when you’re sad. But don’t for a second think that just because things get a little harder sometimes, that you aren’t getting better. Because you are, and you have been, and I am _so_ incredibly proud of you, Peter.”

Peter was quiet for a while, twisting his hands in his lap and biting his lower lip. “Thanks, May,” he finally said, his voice rough and his eyes tired, though grateful.

“No need to thank me. I’m just doing my job,” she smiled, taking one of his hands into her own and smoothing her fingers over his palm before letting go and grinning up at him. “And for Heaven’s sake, ask that boy out on a proper date.”

“May!”

Peter gently nudged Harley. “Harley? Harley, wake up!”

“Mr. Keener,” came Mr. Dell’s booming voice from the front of the class. “I see you’ve decided to take another nap during school time.”

“Hm?” Harley mumbled, lifting his head from his arms. “Sorry. Tired,” Harley yawned, while an exasperated Peter stared at him incredulously.

“Mr. Keener, this is the third time you’ve fallen asleep in my class,” Mr. Dell snapped. “Don’t get me wrong, I myself appreciate a good beauty sleep. But I have the sense to do that at home. I would appreciate it if you would extend the same courtesy to me and the rest of the class who don’t want to hear you snore.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Dell,” Harley said, not seeming to have even heard what the teacher said. Peter watched him with a frown, but then went back to listening to Mr. Dell speak when Harley didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him or anyone else, really, even if his eyes now were open.

“What’s up with you?” Peter asked once they’d stepped into the hallway and said bye to Ned and MJ who wanted to work on their project during their free period.

“What do you mean?” Harley asked, walking a bit more sluggishly than he usually would.

“You’ve been falling asleep in class a lot - and not just in Mr. Dell’s class,” Peter said, trying to match his speed to Harley’s unusually slow one. “You were asleep in class during your first day here, you passed out onto your abstract painting in art class,” Harley snickered at the memory and Peter looked at him disapprovingly, “and now today. And you seem… off. So what’s going on?”

Harley tightened his grip on the strap of his backpack, looking at the ground as he walked. “It’s just been a bit tough, lately. At home,” he explained. “When we first got here, it was just the stress of new things. I couldn’t sleep. But now it’s, it’s the money,” he admitted, sounding almost ashamed which was enough to make Peter’s heart break. “Happy and Pepper helped our mom get a job, but the pay’s not that amazing. I mean, it’s better, for sure. But it’s not enough. And Abby has a lot of new hobbies because the opportunities here are better. They take a fair amount of money, but my mom doesn’t wanna tell her she can’t continue them ‘cause she’s so happy now. And I wouldn’t wanna take that away from her either,” he sighed, stopping once he and Peter reached his locker. “And Pepper did give us a little start-up money,” he said, leaning into the cold metal, “but we’ve almost run out. So it’s been stressful, and when I’m stressed, I can’t sleep. So I sometimes fall asleep in class,” he shrugged his shoulders, trying to make it seem like it wasn't a big deal. But it was a big deal - Peter could see that clearly.

“Can’t Mrs. Potts give you more money?”

Harley grunted. “I’m sure she could. But she’s already done so much for us. She helped Abby and me with school stuff, she landed that job for my mom and she got us to New York in the first place. We can’t just ask for more. We’re not her responsibility,” he bit out. “We’ve survived before and we’re gonna survive now. Even if I sometimes get yelled at by Mr. Dell,” he smirked, though Peter could see an underlying _something_ in his expression. “Come on,” Harley stood up straight and slapped Peter playfully on his back. “Maybe, if we’re early to class, I could sleep for a couple more minutes,” he said, walking through the masses of people in the hallway.

Peter clenched his teeth, nodding to himself, a determined look on his face as he stared at Harley’s retreating back.

He was going to make an important phone call.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling you guys are gonna hate me after this...

Peter picked up his phone from his desk for the twelfth time since he had come home and taken the offending piece of technology out of his pocket. He had scrolled through his contacts and had now been staring at Pepper’s name for a solid fifteen minutes.

He just had to click on the name. One slight touch of his fingertip and he would be halfway there. He breathed heavily, putting the phone back onto the desk again. By the time school had ended, he had been feeling much less confident about his decision to call Pepper and ask her for help. Even his eyes had started playing tricks on him, changing Pepper’s name into Tony’s the more he stared at it. It was all starting to make him feel woozy and light-headed.

God, calling a person shouldn’t have to involve so much mental gymnastics.

Okay, he thought to himself and took a deep breath. He was doing it. Peter picked up the phone once again, the weight of it resembling a brick rather than a thin rectangle of metal. He grit his teeth, pushed his thumb onto Pepper’s name, bringing the phone to his ear and listening to the loud ringing that felt like an assault on his eardrums.

 _“Hello? Peter?”_ came the hesitant and confused voice on the other end. Peter felt like puking his lunch out onto his carpet.

“Y-yeah, it’s me,” he confirmed, his hands trembling and his voice shaking. 

_“I would say I’m glad you’re calling, but I’m already dreading the reason,”_ Pepper said, the nervousness in her voice making Peter shiver. He swept his hair from his forehead where it had fallen, now damp with the sweat that had started forming on it somewhere around the time he had decided to call Pepper in the first place.

“I,” Peter swallowed, “I need to ask you for a, a favor,” he said, a lump forming in his throat. His legs felt like they were turning into jelly, and he let himself fall onto his bed. 

_“Sure,”_ Pepper said slowly. _“Whatever you need.”_ Her comforting voice made Peter feel anything but comfortable. Shit, this was a bad idea. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t keep listening to her voice. His heart was beating in his chest like it wanted to escape and his lungs felt like they were running out of air. 

_“Peter? Are you still there?”_

Fuckfuckfuck, he couldn’t do this, he had to hang up, it was just too much-

 _Harley,_ Peter’s brain supplied. He let out a deep breath. He was doing this for Harley. For Harley’s family. He squeezed his eyes shut. He could do this, he _had_ to do this. For Harley.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here,” he managed to say, trying to level his breathing and not sound like he was in the middle of a breakdown. “Um, so I’m actually calling because of Harley.”

 _"Oh,"_ Pepper said. _“I was wondering if the two of you had met yet. He hasn’t been too elaborate when I’ve called him for updates. You know, he wasn’t supposed to go to-”_

“-Midtown, yeah I know. Happy told me,” Peter interrupted, wanting to get to the actual reason he was calling as quickly as possible. “Listen, Mrs. Potts, it’s great what you did for Harley and his family but they really need your help again.”

Pepper became silent. _“What for?”_ she then asked, sounding concerned. 

“Uh, money, mainly. Harley told me that they’re having problems with money and he hasn’t been sleeping and so he’s falling asleep during classes at school and I’m really worried about him because he’s, like, super smart and hard-working and even though he can be a bit snarky and sarcastic, he’s still a good student and just, you know, a good person, so I really don’t want him to like, fail his classes because of-”

 _“Peter. Peter, breathe,”_ Pepper cut off his rambling. 

“Right. Sorry.”

Pepper sighed, the sound of her heels clacking on the other side of the line making Peter wonder if she was pacing the floor. Just like Tony used to do when he was anxious and-

Nope. Not going there. Peter’s mouth began to dry out but he ignored it, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. This was for Harley. He could do this, goddamnit.

_“That actually makes a lot of sense,”_ Pepper finally said. _“He and his Mother haven’t said much whenever I’ve called them. It would make sense if they have been trying to hide that.”_

“Yeah. They didn’t want to bother you. Which is why I’m the one telling you.”

_“I assume Harley doesn't know you're calling me?”_

“He doesn’t,” Peter admitted. “But I needed to do something. I needed to help,” he explained.

Pepper huffed. _“I should’ve known that the reason you decide to call me after almost six months of silence is to ask for a favor for someone else. I swear I sometimes wonder if you and Tony were actually related.”_

Peter choked on air. Fuck, nope, it was happening, too late. He slid down onto the floor, doubling over and grinding his teeth so hard he wondered if they would break.

“Will, will you help?” he asked, but he knew his voice sounded winded and meek, his breaths becoming erratic, small whines escaping his throat. Definitely enough for Pepper to notice. 

_“Of course, but Peter - are you okay? You don’t sound-”_

“I’m fine. Thank you. Bye,” Peter ended the call, his phone dropping onto the floor with a loud clank. He could already see the new cracks on the screen the fall had created.

This was it, he thought. He was dying. It felt like his heart, his organs - his whole body - was failing him. He tried to breathe but he was suffocating. He tried to yell but no words would leave his mouth. The room was spinning and he tried to claw at the bedsheets hanging from his bed just to keep himself steady. His already heightened senses made every brush of his body against the wooden floor feel like a painful stab, and every sound in the streets below felt like sirens going off right next to his ears. It was Hell with a capital H, and he couldn't escape it.

"Oh my God, Peter!"

May's frantic shouts were the last thing Peter heard before his lack of oxygen caught up to him.

May had wanted Peter to stay at home. Apparently, after a panic attack that makes you literally pass out, you should try to take things slowly, and not force yourself into situations that can stress you out even further or trigger another attack. Even when, in Peter's case, they had deduced that he had blacked out mostly due to a sensory overload that was a result of his superhuman senses, as passing out during a panic attack isn't actually very common. (May might have gone on a Google search trip to find out what to do when your nephew falls unconscious in front of you because their brain decided that it was time to stop making their lungs work.) 

Peter had eventually managed to convince her that staying home wouldn't help him, and that school would actually serve to distract him from his anxieties, and that this particular panic attack was an outlier - simply the result of talking to Pepper. And since it was unlikely he would have to talk to Pepper in school, it was also unlikely that such an attack would happen in the middle of chemistry class. Peter's nonchalant approach to the whole incident after he became conscious again and had mostly calmed down, made May glare at him because apparently, he needed to take this whole panic attack business more seriously.

Peter sighed heavily as he thought back on it. The attack really hadn't been anything to laugh at. But it was fine. He had needed to make that phone call, but now he could just go back to pretending like Pepper wouldn't still be calling May every week and trying to talk to him. It was _fine._

Peter had just closed his locker after shoving his math textbook into it when out of nowhere, a fist came down hard onto the locker next to his.

“Why’d you do it?”

Peter stepped back, surprised to see Harley standing next to him, his fist clenched tight against the locker. “Do what? Har-”

“You called Pepper. Why?” Harley asked angrily, looking straight into Peter’s eyes.

“I, I wanted to help,” Peter said, frowning up at him. “You weren’t sleeping and-”

“And what? You thought it was your job to interfere even when I told you we were fine?”

“Harley, you know as much as I do that you were making the whole thing seem like less than it actually was!” Peter exclaimed. 

“And what if I was?” Harley snapped back. “It still didn’t give you any right to call Pepper! We’re not a fucking charity case!” he yelled. “Sure, Tony gave us money when we still lived in Tennessee, but that, that was different,” he stammered, dropping his fist to his side and leaning his back against the hard metal. “That was just for bills and rent and it wasn’t even that much. Not to mention we didn't even use all of it. Pepper is giving us more than we need and I _told_ you I didn’t want to burden her. She has so much on her plate already, trying to keep the company afloat and taking care of Morgan - she doesn’t need to worry about us on top of it all.”

“I know,” Peter said quietly, “but you weren’t asking for help when you needed it, so I-”

“Oh, come on, Parker!” Harley let out a loud, dry laugh. “You, of all people, have no right to tell _me_ that _I_ should’ve asked for help.”

Peter faltered, frowning at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Parker,” Harley turned to him, “it’s been almost _half a year,"_ he stated. “I loved him too, and so did Pepper and Happy and Morgan and every other person who met him, but we’re not having panic attacks when we see a commercial for a cereal Tony used to eat. You’re the one who actually needs help because at this point? That’s not fucking normal," he blurted out. "And just because you may have gotten used to Tony giving you expensive free stuff, doesn’t mean everybody else is fine with getting ridiculous amounts of money for no reason!”

Harley breathed heavily, slamming the back of his head against the locker. Though as soon as his own words seemed to have caught up to him after his outburst, he paled, staring at the floor like he was surprised by what he had said. Peter had frozen in his spot, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at Harley.

“Shit,” Harley cursed under his breath, running his hands over his face and groaning. “I’m sorry, I went too far,” he admitted. “But Parker, I-”

“No,” Peter said sharply, cutting him off. “You know what?” he asked, clenching his teeth, setting his mouth in a tight line. “Fuck you, Harley,” he spat out. Harley gaped at him, opening his mouth to retaliate. 

“No, zip it; I’m the one talking,” Peter said, making Harley close his mouth immediately. _"Fuck you,"_ he repeated, his voice dripping in venom. “All I did was try to help you. Do you even know how much it hurt, just hearing her voice on the phone? Do you?” Peter questioned, his voice trembling with anger. “I laid on my floor for _hours,_ Harley. I fucking passed out,” he said shakily. He had to force himself to look away and ignore the wetness gathering in Harley’s eyes as he spoke. 

“And I did that because I _care_ about you,” Peter continued. “I _like_ you, Harley, I like you a lot," he let out a wet chuckle, crossing his arms and tilting his head up to look at the ceiling, trying to keep his tears at bay. "And I know what it’s like to be short on money. Even before my Uncle Ben died and May had to support us on her own, we were already having to cut down on food and electricity. And after Ben died, I would skip meals and wear his old clothes because we just didn’t have enough money,” Peter confessed. “So yeah, when Mr. Stark came into our lives, things became different. He helped May get a promotion, he moved us into a better neighborhood and he let me use his lab so that I didn’t have to fucking dumpster-dive to make tech,” he bit out. 

“And was it hard, in the beginning, accepting help when we had been on our own for so long? Yeah,” Peter admitted. “But we accepted it. You know why?” he asked, looking at Harley who was biting his lip, clearly trying his hardest not to cry in the middle of a busy hallway while he silently shook his head. “Because we _deserved_ it,” Peter said. “May had been busting her ass off at the hospital for years and she stayed strong for me when Ben died, even when no one expected her to. I worked harder than ever at school just so that I could have a chance at a scholarship. I was fighting-” he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying crime. “Fighting my way through life every day,” he said instead. “We deserved help. And I thought you deserved it too,” he finished, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. He cast one last look at Harley who seemed to have been rendered speechless, his eyes wide and his mouth agape, and turned to walk away.

“Parker! Peter!” he heard Harley yelling after him once he had already disappeared among the other students roaming the hallway, but Peter didn’t stop nor did he look back.

He sighed and balled his hands into tight fists. This was going to be one shitty day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you guys seemed to enjoy the angst instead of wanting to throw me in the deepest, darkest pits of hell. 
> 
> Also, I'm really sorry if my updates start to become more infrequent from now on. When I started this fic, I had a lot of free time and now, well, I don't. But don't worry, I have every intention of finishing this fic, and I have so many new and exciting ideas for the future of it, so please do stick around for more!

“Hey, Flash.”

Flash looked up from his phone, scoffing obnoxiously once he saw Peter standing in front of his desk and gave him a distasteful look. “What do you want, Penis? If you’re here to ask me to do more work for the project, forget it. I’m not that scared of your boyfriend,” he scowled.

Peter crossed his arms in front of him, clicking his tongue. “That’s not why I’m here,” he said in a tired voice, looking at Flash. “I was just wondering if you wanted to give me the work you’ve already done for the project.”

Flash looked at Peter with furrowed brows. “I haven’t finished it all yet.”

“That’s fine,” Peter shrugged. “I can just do the rest for you. I thought I could put the rest of the project together on my own. I think it’ll get done faster that way anyway.”

“Are you saying I’m slow, Penis?”

“Look,” Peter sighed, not affected in the slightest by Flash’s demeanor, “are you seriously turning down me doing your work for you?”

Flash regarded him carefully. “What about your friend? I’m not looking to fail the class.”

“You won’t,” Peter promised. “I’ll talk to Harley.”

He silently observed Peter for a while, which made him a little antsy, before Flash’s signature smug smirk found its way onto his face. “Knew you’d see reason at some point, Penis,” Flash said, leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet up on the desk. Peter almost wanted to take back his words, but he was simply too exhausted to care. 

“Great,” Peter said. “Just email me your research by Monday.”

Flash made a non-committal sound and picked up his phone again. “Oh, and keep your boyfriend in check,” he grunted, not once lifting his eyes from the phone. “I don’t appreciate being bossed around,” he warned him.

“Not my boyfriend,” Peter mumbled as he walked away.

Harley had tried taking every chance to talk to Peter after the morning’s incident, even hitting Peter with multiple bunched up notes during class, which he had willfully ignored. And luckily for Peter, one of his abilities, thanks to Spider-Man was being stealthier than a regular human being, so he had managed to evade Harley outside of class for most of the day. Most being the keyword here.

“Parker!”

Peter ground his teeth and kept walking.

“Parker, come on, stop!” Harley kept yelling after him, his footsteps coming closer and closer, making Peter knock into other students as he tried to flee his pursuer.

“Parker, I’m being serious - just stop walking and listen to me!”

Peter came to a halt, his body tense and unmoving, not even losing his balance when Harley inevitably slammed into his back because of the abrupt stop.

“What do you want?” he asked seethingly, not turning to look at Harley.

“I want to talk,” Harley said, walking in front of Peter. “Look, I think we both said some things-”

“No,” Peter cut him off, “I _helped_ you, and then _you_ said some fucked up shit. That’s what happened.”

“Fine,” Harley said. “I know what I said was _really_ shitty, but if we could just, you know, talk things out after school or something-”

“No,” Peter interrupted again. “I can’t-” he swallowed, “I can’t do this right now, Harley. You just need to leave me alone for a while, okay?”

Harley frowned. “Well, but, what about the project? The presentation is on Monday and we still have work to do.”

“We don’t have to work in the same space as long as we do our parts, right? That’s what you said, wasn’t it?” Peter asked, standing his ground and glaring at Harley. 

“I mean, I, I guess,” Harley responded. “But we still have to like, put it all together. So we could do that tomorrow?” Harley asked, his voice hopeful.

“You can just give me your work, email it or something. I’ll put it all together. Flash already gave me his.”

“Wait, what?” Harley asked, looking at Peter with a baffled expression. “Why did he give you his work? Did he threaten you or something?” 

“No, Harley, he didn’t threaten me,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. “I asked him to give it to me. And honestly, it’s probably for the best. I bet he was half-assing it anyway, so at least this way we-” Peter cut himself off, clenching his fists as he looked down. “ _-I_ could do it so that it’ll actually be presentable.”

“You can’t just let him walk over you-”

“I’m not!” Peter yelled. “This was my decision and I made it voluntarily. So don’t go all… macho on him, okay?” Peter ignored Harley's offended expression. “He would’ve done his own work if I hadn’t asked him not to.”

Harley knitted his brows. “So, what, now you’re defending your bully?” he questioned, his voice filled with disbelief.

“No,” Peter said. “And he’s not my bully. Not really. He’s more like an annoying mosquito that I can’t swat away. A mosquito that’s probably really bad at doing research,” he concluded. “Which is why it’s _better_ if I do it for him.”

“Fine,” Harley bit out. “Whatever, you can do what you want. But we still need to talk,” he stated, sounding determined. “I’m not done with this.”

“Great. Good for you,” Peter said sarcastically. “I would love to continue this chat but I’m actually pretty busy so I have to go. Have a nice day,” he said, walking past Harley and pretending not to hear the frustrated grunt and the bang of a fist on the wall behind him.

The next day had been even crappier. Peter was avoiding Harley, Ned and MJ had no idea why he was suddenly being so grumpy, he was drowning in extra work after getting Flash’s extremely minimal amount of research he had done and having to basically do everything himself, and he felt irritated all the time. 

See, Peter had a thing about guilt. When Uncle Ben had died, he had felt it had been his fault. Even now, he still couldn’t completely shake the thought of Ben’s death falling onto his shoulders. He had felt guilty because if he had just done something, if he had taken responsibility, his Uncle could still be alive. He had felt guilty for May; she was alone now because of him. He had taken the love of her life away from her - or at the very least, hadn’t stopped the person who had.

Then he felt guilty for his abilities. For having them in the first place, for lying about them to the people he loved for the longest time, for not being able to save everyone.

And when it came to Tony, he felt guilty for a lot of things. For not living up to him, for screwing up when the other hero had believed in him, for letting him down in the biggest way imaginable.

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise when he felt the familiar feeling settling into the pit on his stomach for lashing out at Harley. What was unfamiliar, however, was the way in which he fought against it.

This time it wasn’t his fault. No matter how much the voice inside his head liked to blame him for everything, this one wasn’t on him. For once in his life, he had been _right._

...He _was_ right, wasn’t he? 

Peter stopped in the middle of the street on his way home, the abrupt stop making him bump into a random person who shouted something unintelligible at him, but Peter didn’t listen.

Of course he was right, he thought. Harley had been completely out of line. Sure, Peter had cursed him out quite a bit, and yeah, maybe that wasn’t exactly mature, but Harley had it coming, didn’t he? Everything he had said to Peter had been hurtful, not to mention completely untrue.

It was ridiculous. Of course he was right, he thought and repeated the sentence in his head like a mantra.

“You look like you just woke up from a three-day nap in a garbage bag.”

“Wow, MJ, your kindness astounds me,” Peter stated dryly. “Were you always this nice or did you have to work really hard for it?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he sat down at the lunch table in front of Ned and MJ. It was only the third day of his and Harley’s… whatever it was they were going through, and Peter felt like dying.

MJ placed her hands in front of her in mock surrender. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” she said, going back to popping baby carrots into her mouth. On any other day, Peter would’ve asked her how she was able to function a whole day with rabbit food for lunch, but on this particular day, he really couldn’t have cared less if she was eating slugs.

“How are you the messenger when that’s literally what you told me _you_ think I look like?” 

“Correction: it’s what your face told me when you walked in,” MJ smirked, making Peter roll his eyes. “I’m just relaying its message,” she said.

“You know,” Peter narrowed his eyes, “you are the least helpful person I know.”

MJ paused the hand that was on its way to bringing another carrot into her mouth and lifted her brow, silently challenging his statement.

“Maybe not the _least_ helpful,” Peter conceded, “but I’m definitely bumping you down after Ned.”

“Hey,” Ned exclaimed, looking between Peter and MJ, “don’t bring me into whatever it is you’re doing right now. I have enough to deal with as it is.”

Peter frowned. “What’s going on with you then?”

“He got rejected by Betty,” MJ replied before Ned could say anything. Ned shrugged his shoulders and started poking the food on his plate.

“Dude, I’m sorry,” Peter said sincerely, his ongoing fight with Harley gone from his mind for a second. “That really sucks,” he offered, not sure what else to say.

“Yeah, well,” Ned sighed. “I guess it wasn’t written in the stars or whatever.”

“It was pretty brutal,” MJ agreed. “And believe me, I would love to talk about Ned’s failed love life any day, but right now I’m more interested in why you-” she said, pointing at Peter with a half-eaten baby carrot, “-look like a low-rate Tim Burton character.”

“How original of you,” Peter quipped back. “Or did my face tell you that too?”

“Your face tells me a lot of things. Not the reason for why it looks like that, though. So spill.”

Peter scratched the back of his head, tapping his foot restlessly under the table. “Harley and I had a fight, I guess.”

Ned frowned at him and MJ moved her tray so that she could put her elbows on the table, looking more attentive than before.

“But you guys always seem so tight,” Ned said. “Even when he reminds you of you-know-who.”

“He’s not Voldemort, Ned, you can say his name,” Peter fixed him with a look and Ned mouthed a quick sorry to him.

“What was the fight about?” MJ asked.

Peter wasn’t sure if he wanted to re-cap what had happened to his friends. Sure, he was still mad and did possess some desire to just vent at anyone listening, but at the same time, what had transpired between him and Harley felt personal. It _had_ been personal. And if Peter was really honest with himself, he didn’t want Ned or MJ (a.k.a Michelle ‘The Voice of Reason’ Jones) telling him that maybe he shouldn’t be completely guilt-free. That maybe he was in denial of his own part in the whole argument, even if he did firmly believe that Harley _had_ gone way too far. 

“I did something to try and help him,” he finally said, when the expectant stares from his two friends became too much. “And he didn’t like that apparently, I was making him seem like a ‘charity case’”, he said, air quoting. “And then he-” Peter clenched his teeth, the earlier anger rearing its ugly head as he thought back on Harley’s words, “-he said something. Something really fucking shitty and I just,” he rubbed his hands on his face, “I don’t know,” he sighed.

MJ looked at him with furrowed brows. “What did he say?” she asked tentatively.

Peter tilted his head to look at the ceiling and heaved a sigh. “I may be paraphrasing here, but basically he said that my panic attacks aren’t normal and that if anyone, it should be me getting help. And he also insinuated that Mr. Stark just gave me a bunch of free stuff all the time so I guess I can’t understand the plights of poor people.”

“Shit,” Ned let out a breath. “He really said that?”

“Not in those exact words, but yeah, basically.”

MJ regarded him carefully, an almost calculative expression on her face. 

“What?” Peter asked nervously.

“Nothing, it’s just,” she shifted in her seat, “I’m not saying that I approve of the _way_ he said some of those things, but-”

“Don’t,” Peter said threateningly, “Just don’t, MJ,” he said, looking at her with wide, unwavering eyes. Even Ned frowned at her.

“Yeah, MJ, what Harley said to Peter wasn’t okay,” he said quietly. 

“I agree,” MJ said, trying to placate Peter who was still sending her silent warnings to drop it. “I don’t know what your fight was really about. And I’m sure Harley’s reaction to whatever you did was totally uncalled for, but Peter…,” she trailed off. “He kind of had a point. About one thing.”

Peter’s nostrils flared. “What the fuck, MJ?”

“Look,” she said, looking between Peter’s hurt and betrayed expression and Ned’s utterly confused one, “I do _not_ agree with the way he, according to you, phrased those things. And I completely agree that the comment about Stark was awful, not true at all, and he shouldn’t have said that. But I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and Peter,” she bit her lower lip and looked at him with such an earnest expression that it made Peter’s anger melt under her stare. “I do actually think that you should consider getting help.”

“What?”

“Panic attacks _are_ normal,” she stressed, “especially with people like you who have gone through immeasurable traumas in such a short period of time,” she explained calmly. “To be honest, I’m surprised you’re even as functioning as you are. But just because your - and let’s be honest here - pretty _constant_ suffering make panic attacks the least abnormal side effects you could have, doesn’t mean that nothing can or should be done about them,” she said, and Peter could tell that she was trying to find the right words to not set him off. The fact that she felt like she had to do that made Peter feel bad about his earlier reaction. He didn’t want her to feel like she couldn't tell him things. 

“Just because something is normal, meaning that it isn’t unusual for your particular situation, doesn’t mean that it’s normal in the sense that you should just accept it and power through each and every attack,” MJ went on, articulating each of her words carefully. “There are people you could talk to, who could help you manage them in a better and healthier way. You can’t just live your life ignoring everyone who was close to Stark and then have painful panic attacks when you do have to confront them,” she stated, the truth of her words making Peter squirm uncomfortably in his seat. “Getting help would enable you to talk to those people and actually process his death. 

“And did Harley say that in a much more accusing, hurtful way? Probably, or you guys wouldn’t be fighting. But having seen the way you two interact and how understanding he’s been about what’s going on with you, I’d say it was probably just the heat of the moment that made him say it the way he said it. Of course, he should apologize, and I don’t really know the extent of your argument so he could’ve said something worse, in which case just say the word and I’ll break his kneecaps,” MJ tried to lighten the mood and gave Peter a grin, though it fell flat. Peter was thankful that she had tried, though, and gave her a smile to let her know he wasn’t angry at her anymore. “But I’m willing to bet that he didn’t mean it and is probably beating himself up about it right at this moment,” MJ finished.

Peter contemplated MJ’s words, an array of confusing and contradicting emotions running through his mind and making his head hurt.

“Do _you_ think I should get help?” Peter suddenly turned to Ned, who looked surprised to have Peter’s attention directed at him.

“I don’t know,” he said, visibly uncomfortable as Peter’s questioning gaze fell on him. “Maybe. I mean, it could help? If you talked to someone.”

“I talk to you guys all the time,” Peter argued. 

“Yeah, but we’re not professionals,” MJ argued back. “We can easily say something that we don’t realize will trigger an attack or a memory. Just because we’re pretty smart even by this school’s standards, doesn’t mean we can’t be ignorant about things we have no experience on.”

“So, what - you think I should go see a, a therapist or something?” Peter sputtered. “Who could I even go to? It’s not like I could tell a civilian that I traveled to space accidentally, then died and came back five years later just to fight a huge-ass space army and then witness my mentor sacrificing himself to save the universe.”

“You don’t have to go into specifics,” MJ said. “Losing a loved one is a pretty universal catalyst for grief, and superhero or not, it affects us in the same ways. Regular people deal with trauma all the time - I’m sure that even if you left out the identity of the person you lost or the fact that they died after wielding a gauntlet carrying the power of six infinity stones, you could still talk about the emotions of losing someone you loved.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try,” Ned interjected.

“You think I should do that? Go to a therapist?” Peter asked, frowning at the table.

“I mean, I went to a therapist for two years after my parents got divorced,” MJ confessed.

“You did?” Peter and Ned asked simultaneously.

MJ nodded. “It was daunting at first, for sure,” she said. “And I’m not the most open person when it comes to talking about my feelings, but in the long run, it really did help me come to terms with that change in my life. Obviously, your situation is different, but it wouldn’t kill you to at least get an appointment.”

Peter thought about it as a tense silence fell upon the three teens. Finally, he let out a huge breath, the action breaking the uncomfortableness of the situation. “For the record, I’m still mad at Harley,” he said, at last digging into his own lunch.

“You’re allowed to be,” MJ said, biting into her last carrot. “He shouldn’t have said what he said, especially like that. But, maybe you should also think about it from his perspective,” she suggested. “And if after all of that, you’re still convinced that he’s an irredeemable asshole, you can come to me and we can talk about those kneecaps.”

Peter closed the door behind him, a little more forcefully than he usually would, the conversation with MJ still fresh in his mind and distracting him from his surroundings.

“Hey, kid,” Happy’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Be careful with that door - I don’t think it’s exactly new.”

Peter winced at the sudden voice and frowned, scanning the apartment and trying to spot May. When he couldn’t see or hear her, he turned to Happy, confusion evident in his voice. “What are you doing here? Where’s May?”

“She went to the store to get pasta. She left me to make the sauce,” he said, pointing his thumb at the kitchen, from where Peter could now hear the sound of something simmering quietly. His nose caught whiff of a mix of different spices and the distinct scent of tomatoes - and not the Chef Boyardee kind. 

“I didn’t know you could cook,” he said, putting his backpack down onto the floor and following Happy to the kitchen. The older man procured a wooden spoon from beside the tall pot on the stove, and Peter was almost certain that neither kitchenware belonged to May. 

“I picked up a few skills over the years,” Happy smiled, stirring the sauce. The smell was making Peter extremely hungry. 

“So is this like a family dinner then?” Peter asked, dreading the answer. No matter how well Happy could cook, having to consider him ‘family’ was a bit too much too soon.

Happy looked at Peter with a strange smile, like he knew exactly what he was thinking. “More like a ‘we’ve been at the office for eight hours and so now we’re hungry’ dinner. No expectations,” he added knowingly, and Peter felt a rush of warmth for the other man.

“Cool,” Peter said. “I could help set the table?” he offered, feeling like he needed to do something useful.

“You can do that when May gets home with the pasta,” Happy said, putting the lid back onto the pot and laying the spoon down. “Right now, you could just tell me what’s wrong.”

Peter gaped at Happy. “What, what do you mean?” he asked with a high pitch to his voice and crossed his arms.

“Well, for one, you haven’t stopped frowning since you got here,” Happy said, moving to sit on one of the chairs at the dining table and gesturing for Peter to sit with him. Peter stood unmoving for a while, but after a few seconds of silence, decided to sit down next to Happy. He stared at the table in front of him while Happy maneuvered his own chair into a position that made it possible for him to look at Peter’s face, which the teen tried to tilt away from him.

“I know I’m no May, but you can still talk to me. What’s going on?”

Peter bit his lip and drummed his fingers against the table. “Was it wrong of me to do it?” he finally asked. “Should I not have called Mrs. Potts?”

Happy sighed, glancing at the wall before turning back to Peter. “You did what you needed to do,” he said. “You helped his family, and I don’t think that was a bad thing.”

“So you knew then?” Peter asked. “That I called her? I thought you might.”

“Pepper called your Aunt after you hung up on her. She was on the line with May when she found you in the middle of a panic attack,” Happy confessed with a heavy sigh.

Peter’s eyes widened. “Shit, did she hear me?” he asked, his cheeks heating up from the embarrassment.

“She did. I’m sorry, kid,” Happy said. “She called me after and told me about Harley’s situation.”

“Great,” Peter huffed. “One more person to judge me.”

“Is that what this is about?” Happy asked. “Did Harley say something to you?”

“Yeah,” Peter exhaled. “But it’s all really confusing now. I was so mad, right? Like he was so obviously wrong. I helped him, I called Mrs. Potts, all because I wanted him to be okay. And then he throws it all in my face, says that I should get help instead and that I don’t understand what he’s going through because Mr. Stark apparently just handed me free shit all the time,” Peter said scathingly. He groaned and buried his fingers into his hair, slightly pulling at it out of sheer frustration. 

“And then MJ said that maybe I _should_ get help, and she gave this whole, like, speech about it,” he continued. “And, and maybe I should?” Peter admitted quietly. “But that doesn’t mean that Harley wasn’t a dick. Because he was, he was such a dick about the whole thing,” he stated firmly. “And sure, he tried to talk to me after and maybe he would’ve apologized but,” Peter hesitated, “but the fact that he said it in the first place is what pisses me off,” he said. 

“The comment about getting help… I’m mad about it, but I get it,” Peter said, his voice wavering. “But I thought he understood me. That he understood my relationship with Mr. Stark,” Peter croaked, clearing his throat when he felt the tears gathering in his eyes. “And now I just feel like he thought I somehow wormed my way into Mr. Stark’s life and used him for his money. And I’m going through every conversation we’ve had about Mr. Stark and those are all-” he ground his teeth, pulling at his hair hard enough that it hurt, “ _-tainted_ now,” he bit out. “Because what if we weren’t bonding over being mentored by him, what if he was thinking that I was some version of, of a _gold digger_ the whole time?” Even the very idea made Peter feel sick.

Happy sat quietly, processing everything Peter had just told him. “He doesn’t think you’re a gold digger, Peter,” he said after a few seconds had passed. 

“How do you know?” Peter asked, his voice wobbly now that he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down.

“Because I know Harley. He said something to you during a heated argument but he didn’t mean it. He was trying to hurt you because he was angry - which is not good, but he didn’t say it because he meant it. So don’t let that tarnish everything that’s happened between you guys before. Those were genuine moments and I can guarantee you that Harley doesn’t think of you that way.”

Peter hiccuped. “I know that. I _know_ that, I do, but I’m still so _mad_. I can’t just turn it off.”

Happy put his hand on Peter’s shoulder, a gesture that the teen was surprisingly okay with. “You’re not supposed to. Feelings, no matter what they are, are meant to be experienced. You can’t run away from them even when your brain tells you that logically, you shouldn’t feel something anymore. But what you can do, is try to help yourself through those feelings.”

“How do I do that?”

“You talk to Harley,” Happy said, chuckling at Peter’s scrunched up face. “You just gotta communicate. That’s how these things work. Talk to him, hear his side, and then decide how to proceed.”

“I’m scared,” Peter whispered. “What if he _did_ mean what he said? I don’t,” Peter swallowed, “I’m mad at him but I don’t want to lose him.”

“You won’t,” Happy promised. “The kid’s got a temper, one to rival Tony’s, but under all that, he’s just as vulnerable as the rest of us. And I have a feeling you’ve already seen that side of him. And it hasn’t gone away, no matter how hard he might try to hide it. You just gotta crack his shell. There are some things that even Harley still struggles with, even if sometimes it feels like he’s got everything figured out. He’s had to grow up quicker than most kids.”

Peter frowned at that, not exactly sure what Happy meant, but filing the question away for another time. He let out a breath and wiped away the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He was sure he looked like a mess and wanted to go wash his face, but there was one more question he needed to ask.

“Did, um,” Peter tugged at the sleeves of his hoodie, looking at the floor, “did Mr. Stark ever go to therapy?”

Happy gave him a sad smile and shook his head. “No.” 

Peter felt instantly disappointed. “Oh.”

What was he thinking? Of course Tony didn’t go to therapy. He was Iron Man after all - he was the strongest person Peter knew. He didn’t need therapy.

“Tony was an idiot,” Happy said, making Peter furrow his brows in confusion and lift his head up to look at him. “He was stubborn and insisted on doing everything on his own. He talked to his robots, to his A.I’s - sometimes even Rhodey, if you got enough alcohol in him,” Happy mused. “And sometimes, he would go to Pepper. But he never let himself really get helped. People knew him as a narcissistic, selfish man, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. Tony hated himself,” he admitted and Peter looked surprised at the confession. “And the last thing he wanted to do was bring more people into his life, to drag someone else down the rabbit hole with him. But he was also self-aware. He knew that keeping it all inside and pretending like everything was fine wasn’t doing him any favors, but by the end, he felt like it was too late,” Happy shrugged. “It never is too late,” he quickly added, “but as I said, Tony was stubborn. He knew he had screwed up, big time. The only thing getting him out of bed after that whole debacle with you and Toomes was him wanting to make sure the same didn’t happen to you.”

“He wanted me to be better than him,” Peter said softly.

“He did,” Happy agreed. “In more ways than one. And Peter, for what it’s worth, Tony would have wanted you to get help. He never did, and look at what that did to him.” Happy’s eyes were glossy when Peter looked up at them. “He was my best friend, and the best man ever I knew, but in his mission to save everyone else, he never once tried to save himself. Don’t make the same mistake he did.”

The shift in the room was palpable. Even if Peter had yet to do anything to fix his situation, he already felt a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. 

“Thanks, Happy,” Peter smiled. “You’re okay,” he said, grinning.

Happy let out a deep laugh. “I should hope so.”

“If you boys are done now,” May’s voice made both their heads whip around in record speed, only to see her standing in the entrance to the kitchen, smirking at the two of them. “I’d love to put this pasta in water. Also, Happy dear, I think your sauce is boiling over.”

“Oh, shit!” 

Peter laughed until his belly ached, the sound of Happy’s cursing making him think that maybe, things would turn out okay eventually.


End file.
